The Black Hand of Justice
by Deep Voice 64
Summary: At the end of the day, justice is a subjective term. Everyone has their own idea of what it is, but one thing is absolute: justice only exists when it's enforced. And to do so often requires sacrifice. What would you give up in order to do the right thing? For one former Blackwatch agent and an unlucky Omnic A.I., it may just be their lives...
1. Chapter 1

**The Black Hand of Justice**

" _Come on, move your asses! He's getting away!"_

" _We need help over here!"_

" _This whole place is gonna blow!"_

" _I don't wanna die like this!"_

" _Rico, help us!"_

" _HELP US!"_

A young, dark skinned man with a messy mop of hair sat at a table in a small room. A dim light hung overhead as he stared at his arms—two , black, metal appendages forged from carbon nanotubes laid over an intricate network of cables and titanium framework—which were bound together by thick, magnetic handcuffs. The man wore only a black, turtleneck shirt with black cargo pants, and a belt with a buckle in the shape of a curious white mask with a black cross on it inside of a black and red circle. His eyes were closed in deep thought, the screams echoing in his mind…

The door suddenly opened and two tall men walked in, one after the other. The first had blonde hair that seemed to almost shine, even in the dimness of the room's lighting. His square jaw lowered as he frowned down upon the younger man sitting at the table. The man who walked in behind was of a darker complexion with facial hair and scars marking his features, and a black ski cap on his head. His expression was more difficult to read, but even without opening his eyes, the younger man could sense his disquiet. The scarred man looked at the blonde man, who opened his mouth to speak.

"Agent Verde," the man began. "You have some explaining to-" he was cut off as a loud bang resounded behind him. He turned around and saw the man with the ski cap holding a smoking shotgun aimed out of the door.

"Missed one," the ski-capped man shrugged as the blond man frowned at him as well.

Turning back to the so-called 'Agent Verde', the blond man resumed speaking.

"I sent you out here to do one simple thing. Now the entire Austrailian Omnic settlement has been destroyed, along with an entire Overwatch facility!"

"To be fair Jack, the job _was_ to remove the ALF as a threat," the ski-capped man interjected.

"Shut up, Reyes!" the blonde man, named Jack, said sharply, still looking at Agent Verde. "Do you have any idea how many people just died because of your protégé?!"

"Twelve-thousand-five-hundred-and-forty-one," Agent Verde said, finally opening his eyes, which glowed green, evidencing their artificial nature.

"Do you think this is funny?!" Jack said, his anger rising.

"I _think_ that you're forgetting objectivity," Agent Verde said, looking up and narrowing his eyes.

"Mind your tone, soldier. Don't forget who you're speaking to," said the ski-capped man, Reyes.

"Am I expected to apologize for doing my job? The job _you_ trained me to do?" Agent Verde said, indignantly.

Jack slammed a fist down onto the table. "Give us one fucking reason why we shouldn't fucking leave you here to rot!"

"If I needed to do that, I doubt you'd have come all this way," Agent Verde sneered. When Jack continued to frown, Agent Verde's expression flattened. "Fine," he deadpanned. "You want a reason? I'll give you one," he said, sitting up straighter.

"Because justice…requires sacrifice."

* * *

 _ **5 years later…**_

The midday sun beat down upon a dusty, ruined city in the Australian outback. Dilapidated buildings lined the cracked and eroded streets with rusted and broken down cars all over the place, as smog filled the air. One might consider it unlikely to find people living among such ruin. However, to the people of Australia, it was merely a reality they had gotten used to ever since their Omnium, a manufacturing plant for the production of androids known as Omnics, was destroyed by the Australian Liberation Front. Now, much of the country had been transformed into an irradiated wasteland, devoid of the former beauty it once held.

The ruined city no longer bore name, having been all but destroyed by the cataclysm years ago, and its current inhabitants no longer feeling the site worthy one. The only place of note in the city was a bar known as the "Dead End". Inside, the city's inhabitants drank away the worries of the day, out of the blazing Australian heat.

However, the quiet bustle of the town was soon disrupted but the low rumble of diesel engines on the wind. Heads turned in the street towards the source of noise. Soon, a convoy of vehicles rolled into sight. However, these were no ordinary vehicles. The people turned and ran inside of the closest buildings they could find, hoping that they were not spotted beforehand, as the convoy moved closer. The curious procession was made up of various rigs cobbled together from all manner of junk and scrap. It filled the air with even more smoke and dust than was already present. The group hooted and hollered as they went, their triumphant cries audible even over the roar of their engines.

The great host parked on the street in front of the bar. The leader, a tall, thin man in a dusty, black, leather, studded biker jacket and a shaved head with painted, white skin kicked open the bar's doors. Black engine grease was smeared across his face in a manner resembling war paint. The conversation that had filled the bar moments before fell silent as heads turned towards the door. The pale man grinned a toothy grin, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth.

"Don't mind me, good people," the man said with a thick accent. "On second thought, DO mind. After all, my mates and I have had quite a ride through the desert! Now if I was the proprietor of this fine establishment, I would set out your finest tables for the personal fighting force of our noble Queen!" Feelings of anxiety passed through the entire crowd. The pale man grew impatient. "I SAID, bring out your finest tables…NOW!" he roared, the grin on his face replaced by a vicious snarl.

The bar patrons tripped over themselves to empty tables for the man. His grin returned as he bowed in mock gratitude as his gang filed in behind him. "That's more like it! This humble servant of the Queen of Junkertown thanks you for your hospitality!" A multitude of similarly dressed men and women swarmed into the bar, pushing people aside and taking seats, food, and drink where they pleased. The majority of the bar's patrons stood huddled against the walls, too afraid to speak against them…  
_

It was around this time that a tall, lean, dark-skinned figure strode into town. He was dressed entirely in black, which was strange, considering the weather. However, he did not appear to show any signs of discomfort. He wore a tattered, brown mantle over his body to cover himself from sun. Over his eyes, he wore a pair of black lenses that shielded from the harsh glare of the sun. He moved slowly, fatigue weighing him down, as he approached the entrance to the Dead End, completely oblivious to the junker vehicles parked outside. He stumbled through the door towards the bar, ignoring the heads that turned his way, and sat down on the one stool that was empty. The bartender regarded him with apprehension as she cleaned a beer mug. The man in black dropped some money down on the bar.

"Lemonade. Ice cold," he said, breathing heavily.

"Uh, look stranger…" the bartender began.

"What? Do I not have enough money?" the man asked.

"No, that's not-"

"Oh, you don't serve lemonade here, is that it? I know, it's a strange request for a bar…"

"Look stranger, I don't think you wanna be here-"

"Look, I'll take whatever you got, just _please_ don't leave me hanging here!" the man in black pleaded.

"You listen to the lady, man," one of the patrons leaned over and whispered. "This ain't exactly a good time to be here."

"What do you mean? Why?" the man in black asked…before being picked up from behind and tossed over the bar. The bartender yelped in surprise as he struck the liquor shelf, crushing several bottles and sending yet more falling to the floor, where they shattered upon impact, covering the man in spilled booze and bits of broken glass.

The man in black groaned as a pale man with engine grease streaked across his face cackled wildly. His cronies followed suit, filling the bar with uproarious mirth. "Because you're in my seat, that's why!"

"Come on Decimus, you didn't have to do that!" the bartender said angrily, kneeling down to check on the man in black.

"You're right, I didn't…but it's a lot more fun, isn't it lads?" the pale man, Decimus, said, as his gang laughed their approval. "Some people just don't have any manners."

"He just got in here, he didn't know that seat was taken. He didn't mean anything by it," the patron who tried to warn the man in black spoke up.

"Yeah…I'm real sorry about that," the man in black said, as he picked himself off the floor. "I just came in for a drink. I don't want any trouble."

"Oh, it's a drink you want, is it?" Decimus asked. "Bartender, what did this one order?"

"L-Lemonade," she answered nervously. Decimus snapped his fingers, and a large, muscular man stood up and walker behind the bar, picking a bottle of hard lemonade off of what was left of the shelf.

"Oh thanks, but I don't really drink the hard stuff-" the man in black started before being smashed over the head with the bottle. He crumpled to the floor almost immediately.

"THERE'S your fucking drink, mate!" Decimus laughed raucously. He looked down and saw the man in black on the floor, grasping the back of his head and wincing in pain. "Oi, you're still conscious? I'll give ya credit, you're tougher than ya look, mate!" he said. Then, he caught a glimpse of the man's arm. His musclebound goon did, as well.

"Oi, Decimus! Check it out, mate. It's a bloody cybrid!"

"Ah, _shit_ …" the man in black swore under his breath as he stood back up. As he did, his tattered mantle fell off, revealing his two arms, constructed from carbon nanotube plating…

"Look, clearly I've made a huge mistake. I already said I don't want any trouble. I'll just-"

"Yeah, you made a mistake alright. And that mistake was thinking someone like _you_ could walk in here and expect to walk out alive! Isn't that right, Kramer?"

"Fucking hanzer," the muscled goon, Kramer, responded affirmatively.

"Hey, leave him alone! He didn't do anything to you!" the bar patron said as he stood up from his stool.

"You wanna defend this cybrid fuck? Then we'll scrap you right along with him!" Decimus snarled as he pulled out a gun, pointed it at the patron, and pulled the trigger.

But the bullet never found its mark, because faster than anyone could blink, the man in black snatched it out of the air before it could hit the patron, who recoiled in equal parts amazement and relief.

"Threaten me if you want," the man in black said, his tone losing all pretense of meekness, " but don't threaten innocent people in front of me."

"Ha! Looks like we got ourselves a hero here, lads! Problem is, the outback ain't no place for no heroes!"

As if on cue, Decimus' gang members began to rise from their seats, drawing knives, guns, pipes and chains. The man in black looked around and mentally cursed, knowing that he didn't want to start such a dangerous fight when there were still so many innocent bystanders inside of the bar. However, he didn't have much time to consider his options as Kramer grabbed another liquor bottle off of the shelf and attempted to bash his head in again. But this time, the man in black was prepared, dodging to one side without even looking and spinning around with a kick that sent Kramer flying back into the liquor shelf, destroying more bottles. The bartender threw her hands up in dismay as Kramer fell to the floor, unconscious.

Three more men rushed forward. The first swung at the man in black with a large metal pipe. The man in black blocked it with his left arm while grabbing one of the other men with his right and throwing him into his attacker, knocking the both into a table, breaking it. The third man ran up behind the man in black and stabbed him in the right shoulder blade. The man in black winced, then spun around and knocked his assailant out cold with a backhanded fist. Two women with matching purple mohawks flipped their table and pulled out chains, which they twirled menacingly. The man in black looked between the two of them, trying to figure out who to target first, but before he could, the two women whipped the chains at him, lassoing them around his wrists. The man in black smirked as grabbed onto the chains, and with a mighty pull, yanked the twins off their feet and swung them into several of their friends. Several more gang members entered the fray, bearing all manner of improvised weapons. The man in black simply beckoned his adversaries with a 'come at me' gesture. The gangsters roared as they rushed toward him…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Beware the Roadhog…" That was a phrase often spoken in terrified whispers, or more usually, in anguished last gasps. Five years ago, the Australian Omnic Resettlement Zone was completely obliterated when the nearby Omnium's fusion generator was sabotaged, causing it to melt down and nuke the entire area. Rubble and scrap were scattered for miles upon miles, and the land was irradiated beyond hope for recovery. Over twelve-thousand people—humans _and_ Omnics—lost their lives in the destruction, but not everyone who was there died. Some were reborn. The Roadhog was one such person…

Well, perhaps 'person' was no longer a word applicable to the corpulent giant of a man, who wore tattered biker gear and black gas mask in the shape of a pig's snout. He was more like a force of nature; wherever he went, destruction and carnage naturally followed. Law enforcement agencies who tried to apprehend him were decimated in their attempts. Others who attempted to steal from him, or otherwise do him harm quickly came to regret their mistake, as he tore through them with frightening ease, shrugging off blade and bullet wounds in a way no ordinary human could. No one knew what his motives were, or what, if anything, he was after. And those who crossed his path usually didn't live long enough to find out. But this was not always what he was…

"You know, one of these days, we're really gonna have to talk about this side car situation," spoke a small man with a thick Australian accent. "It's way too rickety! I feel like one of these days, it's just gonna fall off—with me inside it!"

The man held onto the sides of the sidecar as a big, yellow motorcycle thundered across the desert sands. Sunlight reflected off the pig-shaped headlight as a huge, bloated figure rode in the driver's seat.

"Also, we could stand to put some weapons on this thing, don't ya think? You've seen the stuff the Junkers are riggin' up these days! Nothing wrong with us gettin' a little more firepower too, ya know? My grenade launcher can only do so much, but imagine this: a grenade _machine-gun_ mounted to this baby! Oi, Roadhog! You listenin', mate?"

Roadhog merely grunted in response, keeping his eyes on the road.

"What do you mean, it would unbalance the bike? So, we just put a gun on your side, too!"

Roadhog grunted again, shaking his head.

"Weigh us down? Since when do _you_ of all people care about weight?" the small man said.

He immediately regretted his choice of words when Roadhog took his right hand off the handlebars and grabbed him by his hair, which resembled a great plume of flame—not helped by the fact that some of it actually _was_ on fire—not that that seemed to bother Roadhog, as his large hand effortlessly lifted the smaller man out of his seat and dangled him behind the bike, over the open road.

"Ack! Alright! I'm sorry mate! You're right! The bike doesn't need weapons! The two of us do just fine on our own! I know how much you hate other people makin' mods to your bike, after all! And there's definitely nothing wrong with your weight!"

Grunting with satisfaction, Roadhog placed the man back in his seat. The smaller man sighed with relief. "Well, can we at least get the sidecar fixed? I feel like it's gonna shake itself apart any second!"

Roadhog said nothing, but reached out with his hand and held on to it, preventing it from shaking any further. "Ah, Junkrat thanks you, mate…" the smaller man said, finally leaning back in his seat and relaxing…

* * *

About an hour later, Roadhog and the smaller man, known as Junkrat, pulled in front of their favorite dive bar, the Dead End. Roadhog looked wary as Junkrat sat up in his seat, frowning. "Well, we sure picked a hell of a day to stop by our favorite watering hole!" he said, recognizing several of the vehicles parked outside as belonging to the Junker Gang, whom he and Roadhog were presently on _very_ bad terms with. Once an ally of the Junkers, who managed to survive the nuclear fallout created by the destruction of the Australian Omnium, Junkrat, born Jamieson Fawkes, discovered a secret within the ruins of the facility, something that many of his fellow Junkers were eager to obtain for themselves, and were all too happy to attempt to kill him for. But no one knew the exact nature of what the man had discovered, as everyone who attempted to take it from Junkrat met their ends at the hands of Roadhog, whom Junkrat had hired to protect him. Now, the duo traveled together leaving little but murder and mayhem in their wake.

"Come on, Roadie. Let's bounce before we're seen!" said Junkrat. But before Roadhog could gun the engine, three men crashed through the window and into the duo, knocking them and Roadhog's bike over. Roadhog got up swiftly, and angrily drew his Scrapgun as a tall, lean, man in black jumped through the window after them. Landing and rolling on the ground into a kneeling position, he looked up and saw Roadhog, who simply stared between him, and the three men lying on the ground, seemingly unsure of who to shoot first. That's when several more people ran up to the window behind the man in black, bradishing a variety of weapons. The man in black looked behind him and swore as he dodged a hail of gunfire. Roadhog moved to cover Junkrat, shielding him with his body as several bullets tore into his flesh. He grunted in discomfort. When the gun smoke cleared, the shooters looked and saw Roadhog's body riddled with bullet holes, blood seeping out of them and running down his body…but he didn't fall down. Instead, he turned around, drew a small, yellow canister from his belt, and attached it to one of the filters on his gas mask. Taking a deep breath, Roadhog inhaled the curious vapors the canister contained. As he did so, the bullet hole began to rapidly close, causing the man in black to gasp in amazement, and the crowd of Junkers to gaze in horror, realization and fear gripping them tight.

"Oh shit…" the Junker, Kramer, said. "Oi, Decimus! We've got a problem here!"

"What the hell?! Roadhog and Junkrat?!" Decimus said, pushing his way through the crowd.

"Decimus?" said Junkrat, peeking out from behind Roadhog, his wild eyes lighting up. "Looks like we really DID pick a hell of a day to come here, eh Roadie?"

"Well don't just stand there you slags!" Decimus roared to his men. "Kill those fucks!"

A group of Junkers rushed forward, but were quickly dispatched with a blast from Roadhog's Scrapgun. Junkrat took the change to piggyback Roadhog, leaping off of his shoulders and unloading a barrage of grenades from his homemade "Frag Launcher". The Junkers and bar patrons alike dove for cover as small grenades exploded all over the place, blowing holes in the bar and scattering the people. Taking advantage of the chaos, the man in black rushed in and began knocking out stragglers with blinding speed. When some of the Junkers tried to beat him down with pipes and clubs, two compartments in the man in black's arms open up and unsheathed two black blades which he used to cut through their weapons, the monomolecular edges cutting through them like a sword through cheese. Behind the man in black, a Junker drew a grenade and was about to throw it at him, until the man in black whipped around and aimed one of his blades at him. The blade dislodged itself from the man in black's arm as he launched it at the Junker like a cannon shot, impaling the Junker's arm and nailing it to the wall behind him. The Junker screamed in pain and dismay as he tried in vain to remove his arm from the wall, only for the grenade to explode in his hand…

Junkrat and Roadhog were holding their own outside of the bar. Junkrat maintained his position behind Roadhog, lobbing a seemingly endless number of grenades at anyone who was unfortunate enough to be spotted by him, cackling madly all the while. Roadhog stood out in front, his giant frame absorbing any attacks that threatened to get through to his partner, his supply of noxious vapors continuing to fill his mask, rapidly healing his body from any injury he took. One Junker who had emptied his gun in his futile effort to kill the man, threw his weapon down and ran away in fear. Roadhog saw this, and drew a large, steel hook from his belt, throwing it an impressive distance at the Junker. The hook wrapped around the unfortunate victim and drew him back towards Roadhog, kicking and screaming. When he was close enough, Roadhog grabbed the man, who stared into the soulless, black lenses of Roadhog's gas mask.

"You're…you're a monster…" the man whispered fearfully.

"No…" rejected Roadhog, in a deep, menacing voice. "I'm a one-man apocalypse!" The Junker's head splattered across the sands as Roadhog unloaded his shotgun into his face…

"Mother of hell…why the fuck did _those_ two have to show up _here_ of all places?!" Decimus said as he hid behind the bar, loading a sawn-off shotgun. Suddenly, he found himself lifted up by a black, cybernetic arm. Decimus turned even paler than he usually appeared when he looked into a pair of angry, artificial eyes, one green, and one yellow, making them even more unnerving to look at.

"I told you I wasn't looking for trouble. You should have just let me have that drink," the man in black said.

"Look mate, we just got off on the wrong foot here, yeah? If you let me go, we can both pretend this all never happened!" Decimus said with a nervous smile.

"Take what's left of your gang and leave this town. If I ever catch you here again, you better let me have that drink. I'm a lot nicer when I'm not dying of thirst," the man in black said, narrowing his eyes.

"Hey, whatever you say, buddy!" Decimus replied.

"I don't think so, mate!" said a voice. The man in black turned around, still holding up Decimus, and saw Junkrat and Roadhog standing in a hole that had been blown in the wall. "You can just hand that bloke over to us. We've got ourselves a score to settle with him!"

The man in black looked between the duo and Decimus. Decimus, not liking the way the man in black was looking, spoke up. "Ohhhh, no. You can't hand me over to those animals!"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't."

"Don't you know who those guys are?! They're Roadhog and Junkrat! The terrors of the Outback! They're ruthless killers!"

"So are the Junkers," the man in black retorted.

"Well…yeah, but at least we actually have a code to live by! THESE two are traitors to that code! They turned on our family and have been killin' us up and down the outback!"

"Only because you tried to kill me first, you two-faced, jizzwailer!" said Junkrat angrily. "If you hadn't tried to stab me in the back and steal my treasure, we wouldn't be here right now!" Decimus had no response.

"Their displeasure with you sounds pretty justified to me," the man in black said. "Gentlemen, he's all yours."

Decimus, seeing the situation quickly going south for him, ripped open his jacket…which was filled with C-4 explosives. "If THAT'S how it's gonna be, then I'll see you all in Hell! WITNESS ME!" he roared as he pressed a button in his jacket and laughed maniacally. The man in black swore and, using his cybernetically enhanced strength, threw Decimus through a broken window out of the bar, and took cover. Roadhog and Junkrat did the same, as an explosive fireball erupted outside.

Getting up and walking outside, the trio observed the aftermath of their battle. The Junkers who were still alive were retreating on their bikes, while the significantly more numerous dead littered the street, not all in one piece. Civilians helped their injured fellows to safety while others either lingered around to observe the gruesome scene, or hid from the trio who helped create it.

The man in black sighed. "When I woke up this morning, I was not prepared for this…"

Junkrat looked around at the scene, positively giddy at the sight of the destruction. "Would have preferred to blow the shite up myself, but I'll take it!" he laughed. "At least nothing important got blown up, eh Roadhog?"

But as he turned around, he saw Roadhog staring at a massive crater where Decimus had been thrown by the man in black…where his bike had been parked…

"Oooh…" Junkrat said, picking up one of the bike's parts, which were scattered up and down the street. "I am REAL sorry about that, Roadie…but look at all the other bikes the Junkers left behind! We can make you a new one!"

But Roadhog said nothing. Instead, he silently turned towards the man in black, gripping his metal hook tighter in his hand. The man in black followed Roadhog's eyes and realization struck. "Oh _shit_ …"

The man in black turned on his heel and began to sprint away. However, he tripped over something, falling face first into the dirt. Spitting out sand, he rolled over and picked up the small, metallic sphere that had caused his fall. However, as he was eyeing the curious object, a large metal hook flew out of nowhere and impaled his left leg. The man in black did not cry out in pain, but gave an exasperated, "Crap", before getting yanked towards Roadhog. The man in black stuffed the sphere in his pocked while he was being dragged, as his right hand dislodged itself from his wrist and bent down as two prongs extended from a compartment inside of his arm. Once the man in black had been pulled to him, Roadhog blasted him with his Scrapgun, knocking him on his back. Before Roadhog could finish the man in black off, however, energy built up between the two prongs in the man's arm and exploded outwards, a concussive blast of pure force knocking both Roadhog and Junkrat off of their feet and dazing them. The man in black got up and tried to recharge the weapon, but it sparked and fizzled out.

"Dammit, not _again_ ," the man in black said. Then, seeing that his adversaries were recovering, the man in black decided to seize the opportunity. His body surged with electricity as he turned around and sprinted away at impossible speed, this time making good his escape…

* * *

Before the legend of the Roadhog came to be, there once lived a man named Mako Rutledge, a resident of the Australian outback who was content to live a solitary existence on his farm, far the rest of society. He didn't bother anyone and nobody bothered him. However, that all changed when the Omnic Crisis happened. The Omnic Crisis was a massive war the saw the Omniums of the world spontaneously activate and start churning out thousands upon thousands of robots designed for the express purpose of eradicating human life. And few places were hit harder than Australia, its smaller population having much fewer means to fight off the robot invasion on their own. So when the United Nations council decided to develop a large portion of Australia's land to make a resettlement zone for Omnics after the war as a peace offering—land that many people such as Mako were already living on—there was a considerable amount of backlash. Being forced to watch their land be claimed by the very machines who ravaged it drove a large portion of the population to form the Australian Liberation Front, with the goal of removing the Omnics from their new home—permanently. The long and desperate struggle between two people fighting for a place to call their own culminated in a final atrocity that no one could walk away from unchanged. One such person was Mako Rutledge. When he saw the remains of his devastated homeland, his heart broke. When he looked upon the friends and comrades who had died for their cause, his mind snapped. When he breathed in the radiation the tainted the land, his flesh was corrupted. That was the day Mako Rutledge died…and the Roadhog was born, casting a shadow of vengeance against the world that had robbed him of everything, swearing that he would never allow it to happen again. Now, getting up from his daze, and seeing the dust trail the man in black left in his wake, Roadhog turned to the crater that was once the sight of his treasured, diesel-powered steed, and renewed his vow of vengeance against a the antagonistically apathetic world that left him to rot.

" _ **Roadhog rides again…**_ "


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 _ **5 years ago…**_

A young, dark skinned man in black walked down the hallway of Overwatch's Swiss headquarters. The black hands of his carbon nanotube arms were in the pockets of his Blackwatch uniform and he wore a sulking expression upon his face. Up and down the halls, Overwatch personnel turned away from him, whispering to each other. The young man could not hear them at first, so he increased the audio sensitivity in his cochlear implants.

" _Did you hear about that guy?"_

" _Yeah…another cyborg…"_

" _He's so young, though…"_

" _Old enough to wipe out an entire terrorist cell alone…"_

" _Good riddance, I say…"_

" _But did you see the bodies?"_

" _No way…_ _ **He**_ _did that?"_

" _I don't wanna know how they covered_ _ **that**_ _up…"_

" _Blackwatch really is the worst…"_

The young man reduced his hearing, having gleaned the gist of the whispers. He sighed as he rolled his green cyber-eyes, having grown used to hearing such things these days, now that the existence of Blackwatch had been exposed to the world since the incident in Venice. Now his actions on missions were under constant scrutiny, actions that were at one time, never called into question. Even now, he was sure he was being called in to be reprimanded for his actions on his latest assignment.

He eventually found himself in front of the door of Strike Commander Jack Morrison, the revered head of Overwatch, seen as a paragon of justice and fairness. The young man in black just thought he was a pompous ass who let his fame as a hero of the Omnic Crisis go to his head. But regardless of what he thought of the man, he was still his boss.

The door opened and the young man in black saw Jack Morrison standing up, facing the large window at the back of his office that displayed a grand view of the Swiss countryside. The sun was setting in the distance, casting a warm glow over the room. However, Morrison's mood was anything but warm.

"Twenty-three," Morrison said, still facing the window.

"Sir?" the young man in black asked, the office door shutting behind him with a soft hiss.

"That is how many people saw you during your mission in Zurich two nights ago, Agent Verde," Morrison said, turning around and glaring down at the younger man.

"Well, it was really only twenty-two. I accidentally dropped one of the butlers off of the balcony," replied Agent Verde.

"What?! You killed him?!"

"No! I checked in with the medical unit this morning, he's fine! Hit his head pretty hard, though. Dr. Ziegler says he won't remember a thing!"

"Neither will the others once Professor O'Deorain is finished with them," Morrison lamented.

"There's a part of me that would really like to know how that biotic shit of hers works, but I know better than to ask," Agent Verde said, scratching his head.

"Dammit Agent, this isn't a joke!" Morrison said angrily. "Do you not realize the position you're putting me in?! I've got the UN Security Council breathing down my neck because you don't seem to understand the meaning of the word 'discretion'! That _is_ the word I specifically used in your briefing, was it not? I urged the utmost _discretion_! And what do you do? You blow up half of a mansion, leave over forty people dead or maimed, and twenty-three—I'm sorry, _twenty-two_ people, because of the one you _hospitalized with trauma-induced amnesia_ —as witnesses to an Overwatch operation that _wasn't supposed to have taken place!_ "

"Well, if you wanted subtlety, what did you send _me_ in for? You know how I work!" Agent Verde protested.

"We chose you because you're an operative with a very low amount of public exposure. We thought you could handle a simple infiltration job without turning it into a scene from Demolition Man!"

"Those forty guys I trashed were wanted Talon mercenaries! Murderers and terrorists! No one is gonna miss them! Every day, more and more people just like them are running around doing as they please because your precious _Security Council_ ties our fucking hands!"

"DON'T take that tone with me, soldier!" Morrison roared, slamming his hands down on his wide, oak desk with a loud bang. "Agents like you are the reason the public has all but lost faith in this organization! Even now, the UN is holding talks trying to decide whether or not to shut us down!"

"Shut us down?! No, they can't do that…can they?!" Rico said, his tone suddenly becoming more sincerely worried.

"They're seriously considering it," said Morrison, calming down and sitting in his chair. He clasped his hands atop his desk and his face fell from its previously angered expression into a more pensive visage.

"Overwatch was founded with the dream of protecting the world…and of being a beacon of hope that we, the people, could unite under a single banner, and together, accomplish great things in the face of impossible odds. Now…I fear the day is coming when we will all be forced to wake up from that dream…" he sighed heavily.

"Commander, they can't shut Overwatch down… Who will be left to fight for justice and peace if they do?" asked Agent Verde.

"You're right, they won't shut us down. I'll make those suits see the value in us yet," said Morrison, looking up, a determined glint in his eye.

"Sir?" Agent Verde once again asked, with a quizzical expression.

"Your next mission… It may yet see you, and by extension, all of us, redeemed. Come with me…"

* * *

 _ **Present day…**_

The man in black woke with a start in his bed. Looking at his surrounding, he put a hand to his head as his memory returned. After escaping from the bandits, Junkrat and Roadhog, the previous day, he had run nonstop several miles until he chanced upon a small motel along the side of the desert road. At first he thought he was looking at a mirage until he remembered that his cerebral cortex had been modified to allow him to filter out visual hallucinations. And as his body's reserves of energy, both biological and mechanical, were running on empty, he opted to stop in, having just enough money to afford the night.

He had risen from his slumber after his cybernetic biochip, the core of his body's cyber functions, triggered its daily diagnostic function. There was only one problem…

"A diagnostic? I thought I shut that function off years ago…" he said as he rubbed his mismatched eyes. "Automatically waking me up at five in the morning to send diagnostic reports to Dr. Ziegler…I hated that shit… Never did thank Winston for showing me how to hack that…" Rico blinked his eyes and tapped his right temple. His eyes lit up as they projected a holographic display of his body's internal systems. He tapped on an area near the display of his cranium that was lit up red and entered a few code commands on a digital keypad he brought up. The red area ceased its glowing. Sighing contentedly, the man in black went back to sleep.

A few minutes later, he jolted awake once again.

"RULES OF NATURE!" a crazed voice yelled in the man's ear.  
"ONE PUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNCH!" yelled another, as electric guitars shredded along with them.

The man in black rubbed his head as he brought up the holographic display again and attempted to shut off the music playing in his head. "Never thought…I'd regret having a built in music player this much," he groaned. But as he attempted to enter shut-off commands, he noticed a warning icon.

Tapping on it, it read "WARNING: AN UNKNOWN DEVICE HAS CONNECTED".

"An unknown device? The fuck?" he said, running a scan on himself. The scan detected an anomaly in his pocket, the area lighting up purple on the holographic diagram. Remembering the object he picked up in his scuffle the previous day, he drew it from his pocket. Now having the time to inspect it more closely, he saw that it was a strange, three-dimensional hexagon made of metal. Various wires and cables were sticking out of it, the frayed ends suggesting that it had been forcibly removed from whatever it had previously been attached to. Stranger still, was that it dimly pulsed with energy, indicating that whatever it was, it still had some power left in it. It must not have been very much though, because after holding it for a few minutes, the glow dimmed into nonexistence, and the warning icon disappeared.

"Huh…wonder what that was about," the man in black said as he set the object down on the nightstand next to his bed, and attempted to fall asleep once more.

The attempt was short lived.

The man in black's eyes snapped open as he felt his left hand suddenly ball into a fist and punch him in the face. "What the hell?!" he cried. His hand attempted to punch him again, but the man grabbed it with his other hand. His left hand convulsed and contorted, no longer in his control. Seeing no other option, the man in black disengaged the joints that fastened his arm onto his body and pulled it off entirely, throwing it on the floor. Suddenly, the arm sprang up on its own and launched itself towards the man's throat, latching onto it. The man in black tried in vain to pull it off as the upper section of the arm twisted itself to reattach to the empty socket. The man in black's eyes widened with horror as the joints locked into place. However, as they did so, he could the feeling of control returned to his arm as it rested back into place.

Moments later, a warning blared in the heads-up display of his cyber-eye.

"Unauthorized access to cerebral processing matrix?! Fuck! Gotta engage isolation and quarantine subroutines…and I haven't updated that software in five years! Fucking Tsai-Yong Medical software patches…" he grumbled. "Guess I'm gonna have to do this the old fashioned way… This is gonna suck…"

The man in black got off of the bed and tried to walk to the bathroom, but his legs kicked themselves out from underneath him, causing him to fall on his face. He cursed as he tried to move his legs, but found them to be dead weight, completely immobile.

"This is why they tell you to get your biochips checked every two years," he groaned as he dragged himself across the floor.

Reaching the bathroom, he pulled himself up to the sink and found the hair dryer, plugging it into the outlet. He then pulled himself over to the bathtub and opened the faucet. He then felt a sharp pain behind his right cyber-eye, as it unscrewed itself from its socket and popped out. The man in black barely managed to catch it before it fell down the drain.

Once the tub was full enough, the man in black breathed deeply and dunked his head in the tub along with the hair dryer which he had turned on. His teeth clenched tightly as electricity passed through his entire body. The lights of the entire motel flickered and went out for a second as the man in black gave himself an improvised electrocution.

After a few seconds of this, the man in black pulled his head out of the tub. He turned around and lay against the outside of the tub, his left eye rolled up into the back of his head as he silently twitched on the floor.

While most of his body's cybernetic functions had been rendered temporarily offline due to the quite literal shock to his system, his brain still worked, and in his head, the man in black thanked the bionics specialists who designed his body for providing him with built-in electrical insulation.

As his biochip rebooted, the man in black could feel his limbs again. He accessed his biochip's diagnostic subroutine and decided to let it run after all. After performing a full scan of his system, he discovered the anomaly, quarantined as a part of his system's automatic detainment-of-threats-upon-reset protocol, just as he'd expected to happen. What he didn't expect however, was the anomaly attempting to establish contact…

"Attempting connection? What the hell is this thing?" the man in black wondered aloud as he popped his cyber-eye back in.

His curiosity getting the better of him, in spite of everything that had just happened, the man in black established a link with the anomaly.

"Uh…hello?"

"What is this? Where am I?" said a young, feminine-sounding voice.

"I think the better questions are _who_ and _what_ are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my body?" the man in black asked, annoyed.

"Your…body? Oh no…oh dear…I had no idea this frame was already occupied! I'm so, so sorry!" the voice cried, dismayed.

"Uh…that's okay, no real harm done. I'm just glad I wasn't simply malfunctioning. I haven't had a proper tune up in years," said the man in black.

"That certainly explains why your hardware is so out of date," the voice said.

"Hey! Are you calling me old?! Because I'll have you know, I'm only twenty-six!"

"I wasn't aware that combat infiltration units were capable of surviving in your condition for so long. The Omnium must have taken great care in maintaining your frame."

"Omnium? Oh no, you're mistaken. You see, I'm a human."

"A human? That isn't possible. How am I interfacing with your neural network? Has the Singularity been achieved?"

"Not quite," said the man in black, raising an eyebrow. "I'm uh, what you might call a special circumstance. I was born a human, but due to a series of circumstances throughout my life, about seventy-five percent of my body has been replaced or enhanced with cybernetic augmentations. Right now, the CPU hardwired into my brain has you isolated within a quarantine protocol inside my neural net. It was the only way to stop you from hijacking my entire body."

"Strange. You still seem more Omnic than human, to me," said the voice.

"So what are you, then?" the man in black asked, growing increasingly annoyed. "An Omnic having an out-of-body experience?"

"I am…I am…I…" the voice began.

"Well? Out with it!"

"ERROR. MEMORY FILES CORRUPTED," said the voice in a more robotic tone. "I'm sorry," it said, returning to normal. "I…don't seem to be able to recall that information… All I have is my designation…AD-01E…"

"Well, I can't call you that. How about I just call you 'Glitch', since you nearly glitched out my whole operating system?"

"I said I was sorry about that!"

The man in black ignored the voice. "Well Glitch, as fun as it's been talking with you, I think it's time for you to get out of my head," he said reaching for the metal hexagon. "I assume this thing was your storage unit? How do I get you back in here?"

"Um…about that…" Glitch began, explaining the problem.

"What?! What do you mean you can't go back in the box?!"

"My data core has been on low power for about five years. Removed from its source, it was only a matter of time before it shut down permanently. That's why I had to transfer into you. You were the first thing I detected with wireless access and suitable storage space."

"Making me sound like a goddamn flash drive…" the man in black mumbled.

"I wasn't expecting your frame to already be occupied though," Glitch went on. "But I was desperate. I didn't want to…cease functioning."

"You mean you were afraid of dying?" the in black asked with a quizzical expression.

"Omnics don't experience death the same way humans do. But as I said, I have no wish to expire."

"Well that doesn't mean I'm going to let you stay here! But…I guess I'll let you stick around until we find you a more permanent residence," said the man in black, scratching his head.

"Really?!" Glitch said excitedly. "Thank you so much! You know, for a human, you're surprisingly generous to an Omnic. Especially one that almost hijacked your body."

"Don't worry, I won't be forgetting it any time soon."

"Well uh, if we're going to be together for a while, I believe I should know your designation as well," said Glitch.

The man in black sighed. "My name is…"

* * *

 _ **5 years ago…**_

"Agent Rico Verde," Commander Jack Morrison began, opening the door to an Overwatch briefing room, "say hello to your new team."

"Team?" The young man in black asked as he walked into the room behind Morrison. Looking around, he saw that the room had three more occupants.

The first, to his left, was a large, muscular, dark skinned man, bald of head and a short beard. He wore a sleeveless blue vest with Overwatch's emblem on the back. He sat cracking his knuckles as he stared at the new arrivals. "Edmond Briscoe, heavy equipment specialist," identified Morrison. The man, Edmond, nodded at the pair.

Agent Verde turned his head to the right and saw a shorter young woman with pale skin and dark hair, typing away on a tablet. She seemed too absorbed to notice who had walked in. "Sonya Blavatsky, infiltration and tech specialist," said Morrison. The woman looked up for a second, then immediately returned focus to her tablet.

And finally, to his great surprise, Agent Verde saw a nervous looking Omnic standing against the wall. Verde could tell he was nervous because, despite his static facsimile of a facial expression, he was rubbing his metal hands together, his head turning sharply to the door when it opened. When he saw Commander Morrison, he immediately stood to attention and saluted.

"And finally, this here is Hal Shodan, our newest Omnic field agent. At ease, son," Morrison said, holding up a hand. "Team, I'd like to introduce you to your leader for this operation. Blackwatch—I mean, _Special_ Agent Rico Verde."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on a minute. You still haven't told me what this is all about!" Agent Verde said, pulling Morrison aside.

Morrison pressed a button on a keypad on his wrist. A panel on the opposite wall opened up, revealing a video screen, which lit up, showing a diagram outlining a particular area on the continent of Australia.

"About five months ago, we received word that the Omnic Resettlement Zone has been experiencing attacks from a radical, anti-Omnic group calling themselves the Australian Liberation Front. From the intelligence we've managed to gather on them suggests that they're a collection of farmers, homesteaders, survivalists, radical militia, and other such types that have banded together to kick the Omnics, who were given the land by the UN, off of their land. The Omnics can't fight them off on their own and the UN can only offer so much aid. But we've got a Watchpoint in the area capable of providing assistance.

"I heard about that Resettlement Zone. It's good that they got a place to call their own, I suppose, but I also heard that a lot of people got kicked out of their homes," said Agent Verde. "Can't say I blame the Australians for feeling slighted."

"Either way, they've got a problem and it's up to Overwatch to solve it."

"Uh, no, _this_ is the UN's problem, and it's up to _those_ starched suits to solve it. From what I've heard, apparently _some_ people have a problem with the way I do things, so this doesn't sound like a job you're gonna want me on, and I don't think the UN is gonna want the rest of Overwatch on it, either."

"You want to fight for peace and justice, Rico? This is it. This is the fight. We need to show the world what Overwatch really stands for. Only this time, you're going to do it with a team."

"Yeah, about that, Commander. Even if I _wanted_ to do this, you know I've always worked alone."

"Yes, and that's the problem. You've always worked alone, so you've never worried about the consequences your actions have for others."

"You and Commader Reyes trained me to get the job done, not to worry about how I did it," Agent Verde stated defiantly.

"You get results, it's true…the kind of results that put innocent people at risk. Having other people to consider for a change should encourage you to be more thoughtful with your decisions. Plus, a little backup never hurts."

"Commander, I don't think this is a good idea…"

"True, it's a big risk I'm taking here, but the world still needs heroes, despite what the everyone else seems to think these days. And sometimes fighting for justice means accepting that you're fighting a losing battle. But I won't let the dream of Overwatch die quietly. And I don't think you will either," Commander Morrison stated, looking resolutely at Rico. "Or am I wrong?"

Agent Verde stared at the floor, then at the screen. He wanted to disagree. He wanted to say it had nothing to do with him. But he knew himself better than that. He wanted to fight the good fight as much as Morrison did. He sighed.

"Special Agent Rico Verde, reporting for duty, sir."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Despite the destruction that had consumed much of the Australian outback, the capital city of Sydney was still beautiful and pristine. The opera house still stood as the crown jewel of the city, and sun shimmered on the crystal clear waters of the bay. The man in black walked down the city streets eating a burger and drinking a large lemonade.

"…And that's how my augmentations process my blood glucose into fuel."

"I see!" Glitch said. "So that's why you drink so much lemonade."

"Oh no, that's just because I love the stuff! I used to be on a regular prescription of specially made energy bars, but I haven't had any of those since Overwatch went under. Huh…so how _have_ I been fueling myself all these years?" the man in black wondered aloud as he took another sip.

If Glitch had eyes, it would have rolled them.

"So where are we going, anyway?" Glitch asked

"Well, if we're going to get you out of my head, we need to find something to put you in. From the looks of things, that was no ordinary data core you were in. Looked like it had quite a bit of memory. We need to get our hands on something with that same kind of capacity—something that _isn't_ my brain."

"Oh, good. I was getting tired of being locked up inside of this quarantine program. At least there's plenty of room in here now, though."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'now'?" the man in black asked, nearly choking on his burger as gulped down the last bites.

"I had to delete some ancillary data to make more room for my higher data processes."

"Hold up! What exactly did you delete?" the man in black asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing important. Just the folder labeled 'Tax Stuff', a few of your music files…"

"Tax Stuff?! But that folder had all of my p-! You know what, it's not important. As long as you didn't delete my Lucio-playlist."

"Searching…yes, your Lucio music is still here."

"Great! But…why can't I remember high school anymore?"

"Uh, so! Where are we going to get the frame for me?" Glitch asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Oh, well, you see, I know a guy who can help. But he's not here in Australia. He lives in…well, it'll be easier to explain once we're on the way there. First things first, we need to get to the airport," the man in black said, finishing his lemonade and tossing the cup in the nearest trash bin.

Just then, the man in black heard the rumbling of a diesel engine just up the road, which was strange, because cars in modern cities like Sydney didn't use gas-powered, internal combustion engines, as advancements in technology had led to the rise of solar-powered reactors. The man in black immediately went on guard as he realized that could only mean one thing.

As he looked up, a large, yellow chopper with a big, yellow sidecar alongside it, thundered down the road towards him. The man in black say that the vehicle's occupants were none other than Junkrat and Roadhog, the latter of whom pointed a big, chunky finger at the man in black.

"Who are they?" Glitch asked.

"Well, I'll tell you this, they aren't the TSA! Run!" he cried.

One awkward pause later…

"Oh, right…I'm the only here with legs…FUCK!" he cried, as grenades exploded around him, Junkrat standing up in the sidecar, lobbing them by the dozens while he laughed wildly.

"I believe an expedient exit is advisable," said Glitch.

"Couldn't agree more!" said the man in black, activating his hyper-sprint augmentation taking off down the street.

* * *

 _ **Somewhere over the Indian Ocean…**_

A black, private jet soared through the skies over the Indian Ocean. Sunlight glinted off of its fuselage, a red "T" emblem emblazoned upon its dorsal wing. The inside of the cabin was lined with black velvet, and was furnished lavishly with high quality seats and tables. At one such table sat a large, bald, dark skinned man. He sat quietly, slowly flexing his right arm, opening and closing his hand as he did so.

Across from him sat a thin, pale-skinned woman with short, red hair, tapping on a holographic readout of a human body with one hand while swirling a glass of red wine in the other.

"And how does it feel today, Akande?" said the pale woman.

"It feels fine. As always, you do fine work, Professor O'Deorain," said the dark skinned man with a grin.

"Your flattery is appreciated, though unrequired. Calibrating your prosthetic is a simple matter. I merely wish to observe you performing at your best…so that I may obtain accurate data."

"Ah yes, and how _are_ your enhancement experiments going? Better than Project: Renaissance, I hope."

"It wasn't _my_ idea to use turtles. I keep asking you for _human_ test subjects, Ogundimu."

"You'll get them when you can guarantee that we won't have another horde of adolescent, mutated, shinobi tortoises running all over the place. Even the Doomfist had trouble flattening those shells… Still, if nothing else, it was certainly a fun fight."

The pale woman, Moira O'Deorain, rolled her eyes and took another sip of wine while the dark-skinned man, Akande Ogundimu, otherwise known as "Doomfist", smiled while he looked out of the window, recalling fondly his battle with an escaped batch of Moira's terrapin test subjects.

The pair were prominent members of a well-known crime syndicate that had been active in the world ever since the end of the Omnic Crisis, sowing chaos and discord all over the world while raking in profit from all manner of ventures, some legal, most illegal. The disbanding of Overwatch allowed them to flourish further since they were no longer any meddling peacekeepers to get in the way.

Akande Ogundimu was the wealthy scion of a well-respected family from Nigeria, who had a head for business and possessed a charisma that inspired loyalty and ambition in others. But Akande was not content to simply expand his family's already considerable wealth. He sought to lend his intellect and penchant for martial arts to a more… _involved_ cause. After losing his arm in the Omnic Crisis, he received his chance when he was approached by the man known as "Doomfist", so named for his iconic bionic gauntlet, which possessed enough power to level a skyscraper. This man, Akinjide Adeyemi, was a member of Talon, and sought to make use of Akande's talents, both on the battlefield and in the boardroom, to expand the organization's influence. But while Adeyemi was merely concerned with increasing Talon's profits, Akande had a much grander vision, and after killing Adeyemi to become the _new_ Doomfist, he had begun working towards it in earnest…

Moira O'Deorain was once a well-respected member of the worldwide scientific community, a talented geneticist who had made tremendous breakthroughs in the field of molecular biology. She had dreams of unlocking the full potential of the human body straight down to the DNA. However, her plans for doing so were considered…extreme, and with no other scientists able to reproduce the results of her experiments, she was not only labeled a mad scientist, but a quack as well. Not even her former employment as a member of Overwatch was able to save her from such labels, and the organization's fall from grace only served to cast both further into shadow. But sometimes, you _have_ to work in the shadows in order to make others see the light, and Talon casts a _long_ shadow…

* * *

Several hours later, the jet landed in a private hangar at Sydney International Airport. Akande and Moira disembarked the plane flanked by four security personnel in black suits and sunglasses. Akande donned his own pair of sunglasses as Moira began to speak.

"So, you never did explain to me why we came here," she said.

"If we are going to kick off a new world war, we're going to need an inciting incident. Five years ago, there was a conflict here that was a miniature Omnic Crisis itself, of sorts. Displaced farmers, tribal groups, and others who sought to live off of the land, fighting to reclaim what the government stole from them to give to the Omnics. Such passions surely sparked flames, the embers of which likely still smolder, even among the ruins of such a conflict. Before my incarceration at the hands of Overwatch, I had heard rumors of something buried within the carcass of the Omnic Resettlement Zone, something that we can make use of…"

"But you don't know exactly what it is?" Moira asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's what we're here to find out," replied Akande.

Moira rolled her eyes. "I didn't think you were the type to chase rumors."

"Normally, I'm not. But this was a very _interesting_ rumor."

"It can't be that interesting if it has anything to do with Omnics. Why concern ourselves with machines when the human body holds still so much untapped potential?"

"If you don't care, then why did you come along? It's not as if I asked you to."

"Because knowing you, you're bound to end up in a fight at some point, and I won't pass up an opportunity gather data," Moira grinned.

"I am _not_ one of your test subjects, Professor," said Akande, narrowing his eyes. "And I'm not expecting to get into any…fights?" Akande paused as he took off his sunglasses to confirm what he was witnessing.

As he and Moira spoke, a figure on the far end of the tarmac appeared to be running towards him, followed by a large exhaust cloud. As the figures moved closer, Akande and Moira could make out a tall and lean man in black running towards them, a large, yellow motorcycle in pursuit…

"READY TO GO WHOLE HOG?!" Roadhog yelled, jamming a top-loader full of scrap into his Scrapgun and turning the crank, spewing a storm of metal flechettes at the man in black, who dove behind the wheel of a nearby airliner, which was quickly shred to pieces.

"WHY ARE THESE PEOPLE CHASING YOU?!" Glitch panicked, screaming in the man in black's head.

"Fuck if I know! I think it might have something to do with me blowing up their bike a few days ago!" he said, running out from cover holding a sheet of metal that had fallen off the plane as a shield.

"Why would you blow up their bike?!" Glitch asked.

"It was an accident! Some people just don't know how to forgive and forget! It's not like I expected that Decimus asshole to have a jacket full of C-4!"

"What did I miss?!" said Glitch, as the man in black dodged a concussion mine thrown by Junkrat. The motorcycle was closing distance fast. The man in black tried to activate his hyper-sprint augmentation, but the energy failed to build up.

"Shit, I'm running low on juice… I knew I should have bought the Mondo Gulp!" the man in black slammed a fist on the ground. "Can't run any further Glitch. I'm gonna have to fight my way out!"

"Wait!" said Glitch. "I'm detecting a nearby plane, just landed! The engines are still hot! If we can get to it, we can escape!"

"How are you detecting that from inside my quarantine program?!"

"Does it matter?! You've got to hurry!"

The man in black swore as another concussion mine exploded over his head. "Another one?! How many of those things does that peg-legged asshole have?! All right, fuck it, I'm going!"

The man in black took off towards the private hangar which held a black, private jet…

"Akande, what is that?" Moira said, looking over the man's shoulder, seeing the man in black running towards their plane, the motorcycle closing behind him, fast.

"I'll tell you what it better _not_ be—your fucking prediction coming true. Schmidt," Ogundimu called, snapping his fingers. One of the black suited agents stepped forward, bearing a very large suitcase. Ogundimu shed his own shirt and suit jacked as the agent opened the suitcase, revealing a massive mechanical gauntlet for the right arm, the fearsome "Doomfist" itself. Despite his desire to avoid becoming involved in a meaningless fight, he smiled. While he hated to admit that Moira was right, it was true that battle followed him around like a persistent suitor, and he was all too happy to greet her.

With a mighty leap, "Doomfist" bounded into the air. Charging up energy in the gauntlet, he dove towards the man in black and the pursuing motorbike. Slamming the gauntlet on the ground, the tarmac cracked before him, a powerful shockwave traveling outward and tossing the man in black, Roadhog, and Junkrat, along with their bike, into the air. They landed together in a heap on the ground, the Junker duo's bike crashing to the ground absent its riders. Roadhog rose from the ground shaking his head and drawing his hook. He faced down Doomfist, his mask betraying no emotions. It was then that Roadhog noticed the man in black stirring beneath him. Before the man in black could regain his bearings, Roadhog grabbed him by the collar of his shirt with one hand, and attached the hook to his belt.

Blinking as he regained his awareness, the man in black noticed the hood attached to his belt. Turning, he looked into Roadhog's eyes, shaking his head.

Roadhog only nodded in response.

The man in black shook his head harder.

Roadhog returned the opposite gesture with equal vigor.

Before the man in black could give voice to his unwanting of what he could sense was about to happen, Roadhog swung the chain the hook was attached to, taking the man in black into the air along with it. Doomfist jumped out of the way as Roadhog swung the man in black around on his hook like a flail, attempting to hit Doomfist with him, the man in black screaming in dismay all the while. Deciding to lead his target, Roadhog waited until Doomfist jumped into the air again, firing his Scrapgun in order to make him. Once he was airborne and couldn't dodge, Roadhog swung the man in black at him, causing them to collide in the air and come crashing to the ground.

Doomfist was slightly dazed as he recovered from his fall. As he opened his eyes, he saw the man in black lying next to him. Getting up, he turned to Moira. "Feel free to contribute at _any_ time, Moira!"

"Oh no, I'm quite fine observing from over here," she replied, continuing to sip her glass of wine.

"Moira? Professor O'Deorain?!" the man in black said, shaking off his stupor and turning towards the woman.

Moira blinked at the man in recognition. "Rico?!"

The man in black didn't have time to respond as Roadhog prepared to yank him away again. The man in black grabbed on to the closest object, which unfortunately for Doomfist, was his…Doomfist…

Roadhog roared with sadistic glee, his grunts of laughter occasionally broken by fits of coughing, as he swung his two adversaries around. Moira stared in wonderment as she entered keystrokes into a tablet.

"Large size…impressive stamina reserves…above average strength for a man of his body type…surprising level of physical fitness…this one would make a fine test subject. If only he could be subdued," she said, watching Roadhog crash the man in black and Doomfist through the doors of an empty hangar. "Of course, running into Rico here is quite the coincidence. His cybernetically augmented body leaves him of no use to _my_ experiments, but his body's remarkable malleability with regards to being able to accept several different augmentations has always intrigued me…"

The man in black quickly got to his feet as Roadhog prepared to yank the chain again. Grabbing on to the chain, three small prongs extended from the man in black's cybernetic knuckles as electricity began to flow through his arm. Gripping the chain tightly, the man in black discharged a powerful electric current along the chain, shocking Roadhog into submission. He fell to the ground as the man in black unhooked himself from the chain.

At that moment, Junkrat, who had finally woken up, saw the man in black dispatch Roadhog. A crazed snarl flashed his face as he unhooked a large, spiked tire from back. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" he yelled, pulling a rip cord, turning on a motor placed within the tire, and sending it rolling under its own power towards the hangar where Doomfist and the man in black stood. Doomfist leapt away as the man in black's eyes widened, seeing the tire rolling towards them. Grabbing onto the chain with both hands, he pulled with all his might, the other end of the chain still attached to Roadhog's belt, pulling the brute towards him, using his body as a shield to protect from the explosion that burst forth from the tire. The heat and shrapnel from the blast tore into Roadhog's flesh, causing him to roar in pain. Despite the cover however, the man in black was still knocked back.

"Gah…an exploding tire…what will they think of next?" he groaned, blood and sweat running down his face. He looked down at his left arm, which had been completely blown off below the elbow. "Eh, I was tired of that arm, anyway…" he sighed.

"Are you alright? I'm reading critical damage!" said Glitch.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just another Tuesday…" he replied, weakly. He then grimaced as he saw Roadhog lying on the ground next to him, bloodied and burned.

Junkrat stomped his feet and kicked the dirt in disappointment. Moira looked equally irritated.

"Damn it. What a waste of a potential test subject…" Moira grumbled, stowing her tablet.

Then, she perked up as she saw Roadhog's hand twitch. Weakly pulling a yellow canister off of his belt, he attached it to his mask and took a deep breath. Within seconds, his burn scars faded away, and the bits of shrapnel that had become lodged in his body extricated themselves as the wounds sealed shut, the scars fading away into nonexistence.

For the first time in many years, a genuinely thrilled smile appeared on Moira's face. She snapped her fingers, and the black-suited bodyguards stood to attention. " _Bring me_ _that one, alive_ ," she said, her voice dripping with excitement. The bodyguards all pulled out stun batons and rifles loaded with non-lethal pulse rounds designed to incapacitate the target.

Roadhog got up and saw yet more adversaries gathering before him. He cracked his knuckles and popped his neck, a menacing chuckle escaping from his mask. The agents opened fire on Roadhog, but he waded through the energy bullets, completely unfazed. When he was close enough, he grabbed hold of the closest agent's gun, and bent the barrel backwards with his bare hand. An audible "thwack" was heard as Roadhog then ripped the weapon out of the man's hands and hit him over the head with it. The gun broke into pieces as the man crumpled to the ground. Two more agents attempted to beat Roadhog down with their stun batons, but to no avail. The weapons simply did not have any effect on Roadhog's incredibly robust physique, a fact the two agents learned the hard way when Roadhog lifted them both into the air with one hand each. The two agents struggled in vain before Roadhog slammed their heads into each other, knocking them unconscious, and then dropping them on the ground…before stomping on their unconscious forms and caving in their chests. The final agent stood his ground, but was visibly trembling as Roadhog began to approach him. Summoning up all the remaining nerve he had left, the agent let loose a battle cry and charged Roadhog, only for the beast of a man to stop him in his tracks with a big, meaty hand, headbutt him in the face, and toss him into the Talon jet's engine turbine.

Suddenly, Roadhog seized up as he became ensnared by a strange, purple aura. He turned around and saw Moira with a hand extended towards him, a stream of purple energy flowing into a strange device embedded in her palm. He grunted in discomfort as he turned and attempted to walk towards Moira, but only managed a limp, growing weaker as Moira continued to drain him.

"If you want something done right…" she smirked, as Roadhog drew another yellow canister from his belt, but dropped it as the last of his stamina left his body. He fell to the ground in a heap, on his back, snoring.

"Impressive. That took longer that it would with an ordinary person. I must refine my biotic formula further," she said, tenting her fingers. "Sleep well, my little guinea pig…"

"Are you quite finished?" asked a voice . Turning to her left, she saw a rather annoyed-looking Doomfist walking towards her, dragging an unconscious Junkrat behind him.

"For me? You shouldn't have," she said, cheekily.

"Now that we have acquired you some human test subjects, can we get back on track? This is not why we came here."

"Of course, Akande. We can be on our way as soon as we put them on the…plane?" Moira turned around just in time to see the man in black tossing the pilot out of their jet, gunning the engine, and taking off in it. Moira facepalmed while Doomfist exhaled strongly in exasperation.

"Forgive me, sir," said the pilot. "He took me by surprise!"

"It is alright," he sighed. "Just call Sombra and tell her to send us a car," and looking at Roadhog, he added, "A big one."

* * *

The Talon jet climbed steadily into the air. The man in black exhaled as he rested in the cockpit, ignoring the cries from the air traffic controllers.

"Are you sure we'll be able to get where we're going?" Glitch asked.

"Don't worry about fuel. This plane runs on a positronic reactor. We'll be fine…as long as we don't fly through a thunderstorm," he replied.

"That isn't what I meant, said Glitch. "I'm detecting critical damage to your left arm."

"Speaking of which, that reminds me. You still owe me an explanation as to how you're able to do stuff despite being quarantined. Your system access should be completely restricted!"

"…Would you believe me if I told you I was able to merge some of my code with your neural network?"

"No, I would not, because frankly, that prospect is fucking _terrifying_ for someone like me. You're _not_ about to tell me that, right?"

Glitch was silent.

"…Fuck."

"I'm sorry! I didn't want you to get killed with me still stuck in here! I just wanted to help!"

"You had no right to do that! Do you understand what an egregious breach of trust that is?! I let you take up residence in my head as a courtesy!" the man in black yelled. "How can you even do something like that?!"

"I'm not some average computer virus that you can round up and delete, even if your quarantine programs _were_ up to date!"

"You don't even _know_ what you are. And _I'm_ starting to seriously regret doing you a solid."

"Fine, then! Have fun flying this plane by yourself with one arm!"

"By myself? What are you—HOLY SHIT!" the man in black cried as the plane took a sudden nosedive towards the ocean…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 _ **5 years ago…**_

"Agent Rico, sir, are you paying attention?" Sonya Blavatsky asked, her almond-colored eyes narrowing as she observed the young man in black resting his head on his hand and staring out of the window of the Overwatch dropship as it flew them over the Indian Ocean towards Australia.

Rico rolled his eyes and turned to the woman. "I already downloaded the entire brief to my neural net. I was done with it by the time you started talking."

"Well, as the ranking officer here, are there any insights you'd like to share?"

"No, not particularly. This isn't the kind of job I usually handle, unless, y'know, it's a surgical removal of a strategic target."

"Yes, well, I don't think doing things the Blackwatch way is going to solve this problem," Sonya said, narrowing her eyes further.

"Doing things the Blackwatch way is the only reason there aren't _more_ problems," Rico muttered under his breath.

"We'll learn more from the locals once we're on the ground, anyway," said Edmond Briscoe, loading bullets into a very large, intimidating gun. "We don't have to worry about the briefing."

"This intel came from our Australian Watchpoint. Are you saying to don't wish to put stock in intel provided by our _own_ boots on the ground?" Sonya said, staring at the large man incredulously .

"Intelligence reports can be biased. And they sure as hell don't tell you everything. Besides, the situation could change by the time we get there, rendering all of our intel more worthless than Rapunzel with cornrows!"

"What he said," said Rico, pointing at Edmond while smirking at Sonya.

"Rapunzel with cornrows? I don't understand. What is a Rapunzel?" Hal Shodan, raising a metal hand.

"Nothing you need to worry about, clank!" Sonya snapped at him.

"Hey, that was uncalled for!" Rico said, sitting up and glaring at Sonya. Turning to Hal he spoke. "It's an old human fairy tale, Hal. You see, there's this princess imprisoned in a huge tower, with hair so long, it stretches out of the tower's one window all the way to the ground. Eventually a prince manages to climb that hair in order to free her. But if she tied her hair up in cornrows, well, that story would probably have a very different ending, since the entire premise is rendered moot."

"I see," Hal said, taking out a small notebook and writing something down. "But wait," he said. "If climbing her hair was the only way _into_ the tower, how did the two of them get _out_?"

Rico raised his finger and opened his mouth to explain, but no words came out. He frowned as he tried to think of an answer. "You know, now that I think about it, that's a really good question," he said, resting his hand on his chin and thinking hard.

"Couldn't they just cut her hair and make a rope out of that?" said Edmond.

"Sure they could, but she wouldn't be Rapunzel anymore if she did that! She'd just be another short haired princess!" said Rico.

"Maybe they used a pulley system?" suggested Hal.

"Using themselves as a counterweight? That could work. But where'd they get the pulley from?" said Edmond.

"Ugh, we don't have time for this! Let's get back on track, Agent Rico. Agent Rico? Rico!"

* * *

 _ **Present day…**_

"Rico!" a deep voice called.

"Gah! What the-?!" the man in black's eyes shot open and he snapped upright. Looking around, he found himself lying on some sort of operating table in lab. Scattered all were various devices, some appearing half-finished, while against the wall stood a double-sided blackboard covered in diagrams and equations. In the corner, near the ceiling, hung a large tire swing…

The sunset shone through a large window as the man in black turned his head and found himself face-to-face with a large, black gorilla…wearing glasses and white body armor.

"Winston!" the man in black said, as he looked around, noting the rocky surfaces that made up the walls of the lab. "Am I…am I in Gibraltar? What am I doing here?"

"I was going to ask _you_ that. I was ready to vaporize whoever showed up when I saw a Talon jet landing at the airfield, only to find you, the plane's only passenger, passed out in the cockpit. You're lucky I know you too well to think you're affiliated with _those_ bastards," the gorilla said, walking over to him. "Still, I have to ask exactly what you're doing with a stolen Talon jet, and missing an arm— _again_."

"It's a long story, man. Trust me when I say I wasn't planning on dropping in. Not like _this,_ anyway."

"Uh-huh. And what were you planning? I don't see or hear from you for five years only for you to show up out of the blue looking like C-3PO after he got scrapped in Cloud City, so I'm guessing this isn't just a social call."

"I don't look _that_ bad," Rico muttered.

"Your biocells are outdated, you're missing an arm, your biochip hasn't been patched in four years, your internal circuitry is fraying at the seams, and your eyes are two different colors, suggesting one of them is a replacement—a cheap one, by the looks of it. Don't you get check-ups anymore?" Winston said, looking at a digital readout of the man in black's body.

"No, I don't. And before you ask, no, that's not why I came here. I don't care how junked my body is, it still works and that's all that matters to me. I need your help with a different problem," he said, wirelessly linking his neural net to Winston's computer.

"Oh, you're awake! Thank goodness," Glitch's voice echoed through the lab.

"Hm? Who is that?" Winston asked, looking around.

"My problem," replied the man in black. "This crazy A.I. is stuck in my neural net, and it just tried to kill me."

"Kill you?! I saved you! I'm the one who flew us to Gibraltar!"

"Yeah, _**after**_ you tried to crash us into the ocean! I don't even remember blacking out, but I remember _that_!"

"You're sharing your brain with an A.I.?! Rico, do you have any idea how dangerous that is for someone like you?!" Winston almost roared.

"Of course I do! Do you think I enjoy this?!" Rico snapped back. "I've tried keeping Glitch quarantined from the rest of my neural network, but for some reason, that doesn't seem to be working, and it won't tell me why!"

"You…named it Glitch?" Winston asked with a quizzical expression.

"Yeah, you should have seen me when it first infected me. I had to give myself a Green Mile to reboot."

"Stop calling me 'Glitch'!" the A.I. protested. "And stop talking about me like I'm not here!"

"Rico, you know that Omnic intelligences are self-adapting and self-improving. It would take more than a rudimentary quarantine protocol to contain one," the gorilla went on, ignoring the A.I.

"Yeah, well you're the expert, Winston, " the man in black said, folding his arms. "That's why I came here. I was hoping you could get it out of me."

Winston blinked, and then, sighed. "Something tells me it isn't going to be that simple…but I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, man. I owe you one," the man in black, sighing in relief.

"Don't thank me yet. I'll have to put you under so I can do a thorough examination. I know how much you hate that."

"Aw, dammit! Do you _really_ have to? The last time I went under, I woke up with scissor-hands! Someone's idea of a practical joke… never did find out who did that. That was the day Reinhardt was teaching us to tie balloon animals, too…"

"Oh yes, I remember that," Winston said, stifling a laugh and discreetly closing a drawer filled with scissors and prosthetic hands.

"Well, do what you have to, then," the man in black said, sighing. "I just better not wake up with a helicopter in my head. I'll know who to blame, this time…" he said, lying back on the operating table…

* * *

" _Come on, move your asses! He's getting away!" an angry, young man in black yelled over the roaring flames of a burning building._

" _We need help over here!" a dark-haired woman yelled. Men and women ran all over the place, desperately trying to flee the doomed building._

" _I don't wanna die like this!" a despairing voice cried._

" _Rico, help us!" a voice called out from a large, bald, dark-skinned man._

 _The young man in black turned around and saw some collapsed debris blocking the way between him and his comrades. He ran over and tried to move some of it, but it was too heavy, even for his cybernetically augmented limbs._

 _Turning back to look the other way, he saw a man in a blue Overwatch uniform running down the hall towards the helipad. He paused, and turned around just long enough to smirk._

 _The young man in black gritted his teeth. "I can't let that rat-bastard escape justice…HE HAS TO PAY!"_

" _No…NO! You can't leave us here!" the dark-haired woman cried._

" _I'm sorry…I can't let him get away…I can't!" the young man in black said, turning and running towards the helipad._

" _HELP US!"_

" _I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…I'M SORRY!"_

* * *

"He's still asleep?" a voice asked.

"He should be waking up momentarily. The diagnostic is all done, now. Ah, there he is," Winston said, as the man in black began to stir.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Winston staring at him. Standing next to him was a petit woman with spiky, brown hair, and wearing a yellow jumpsuit with a strange device strapped around her torso.

"Rico! Cheerio, luv!" she said with a bright smile.

The man in black immediately sat up. "Tracer? What the hell are _you_ doing here?!" the man in black asked incredulously.

"Aw, what's that about, luv? It's been too long! Aren't you happy to see me?"

"About as happy as a dog is to see a cat…" the man in black muttered.

"Yeesh, still as warm and cheerful as ever," she said, throwing up her hands and sighing. "But that's alright. I know you really love me!"

"Winston, what is she doing here? And where are the results of my diagnostic?"

"Be patient, Rico, it'll take the rest of the day for Athena to analyze the results. As for why Tracer's here…that's a little more complicated."

"Well, it's not _that_ complicated," Tracer piped up. "We're putting the band back together!"

"Band? What band? Wait, you don't mean…" the man in black said, realization dawning on him.

"That's right! We're reforming Overwatch!"

The man in black stared at Winston and Tracer for a full minute before he burst out laughing. Eventually, he stopped to catch his breath, but upon looking at Winston and Tracer in the eyes, he burst out laughing again. This went on for some time.

Finally, his laughing died down entirely, and when he saw that Winston and Tracer's had turned serious, he sobered up and asked, "Wait, you were serious about that?"

"Well, why wouldn't we be?!" Tracer replied. "You got the recall signal, didn't you? Isn't that why you're here?"

"What recall signal? My communication suite has been on the fritz for months. What about the Petras Act?! You remember, that bullshit piece of UN legislation that threw us all out on our asses? The one that illegalized any official Overwatch activity?!"

"Yes, we all remember what the Petras Act stipulates, thank you, Rico," Winston replied sarcastically.

"What the hell are you guys talking about, then?!" the man in black said, hopping off the operating table.

"Just because Overwatch was shut down doesn't mean that the world doesn't still need heroes. Have even seen the things that have been happening, lately?" Tracer asked

"What are you talking about?" the man in black asked.

"Talon is making moves again, Rico," Winston explained. "And it isn't their usual kind. You stole a jet from them, so you must have run into them at some point. They're moving with purpose…searching for something… The Reaper has resurfaced, and wherever he shows up, a lot of people end up dead. And most of his highest profile victims have been former Overwatch agents. He already tried to kill me and steal the list of decommissioned Overwatch agents from Athena's databanks. I barely survived."

"The Reaper showed up again in Numbani along with the Widowmaker. They were trying to steal Doomfist's gauntlet," continued Tracer.

"No way…that assassin who killed Agent Lacroix and Captain Amari?" the man in black said with disbelief.

"Doomfist himself broke out of prison just a few weeks ago. He annihilated Numbani's defense forces singlehandedly, and that was _before_ he got his gauntlet back. With him back on Talon's leadership council, it's only a matter of time before the pull something big. I'm not willing to sit back and wait for that to happen."

"You don't even know _what_ Talon is planning to do! For all you know, they could be planning a charity bake sale!"

"Rico, this is serious!" said Tracer.

"And so am I, Trace! Have you guys even thought this through?! Has anyone else got in touch with you?! Do you even have a _plan_?!"

"I have a plan…in the process of…taking shape…" Winston stammered.

"That's what I thought," said the man in black. "You always were the type to look before you leapt."

"You're one to talk. Put anyone in the hospital lately?" Tracer asked, folding her arms.

"No one who didn't deserve it," Rico retorted.

"Rico," Winston began, his tone softening, "Petras Act or no Petras Act, the world hasn't changed. Even in Overwatch's prime, the world was still full of danger and chaos. With Overwatch gone, it's only gotten worse. Innocents are being harmed every day, all over the world, by people like Talon. Social tensions between humans and Omnics have been on the rise ever since the assassination of Tekartha Mondatta. There are whispers that it might even break out into a new Omnic Crisis. Can you really just stand by and watch these things happen?"

"Winston," the man in black sighed, "Overwatch is gone because those so-called 'innocent' people you want to protect _wanted_ it gone. After everything we did to keep the world safe, those 'innocent' people turned on us and decided they didn't need us anymore! Why should we risk our lives to save people who don't want us around?"

"Is that really how you feel? Since when did you let what other people think dictate your actions?" said Tracer.

"I never did, and I still don't. Case in point, I'm not about to let you guilt me into this nonsense. I didn't come here for this," the man in black said.

"We're not-" Tracer began before Winston held up a hand, cutting her off.

"You're right. This isn't what you came here for. Let's drop it, Lena," he said, using her real name.

"But Winston…"

"We can't expect everyone from the old days to be on board. A lot has changed since then…and a lot of old wounds haven't quite healed…" Winston said with an understanding tone.

"Are we done here?" the man in black asked, walking towards the door without waiting for a reply. "I'll see you in the morning. Be in the old strike-force barracks if you need me."

Tracer and Winston watched as the door closed behind him.

"Wow…the years have really changed him haven't they? He was always the surly sort, but was he always that cynical?"

"Nothing was the same after Overwatch collapsed, Lena. I wouldn't be surprised if most of our former comrades feel the same way he does."

"I refuse to believe that," said Tracer, her smile returning to reassure Winston. "Overwatch was home to the best people I ever knew! Even Blackwatch wasn't _all_ bad—Rico included," she added, nodding towards the door. "I know the Petras Act was a hard blow to everyone, but you remember how guys like Rico and Reinhardt were all gung-ho to fight for justice!" she said as she did an over-the-top salute, making Winston chuckle a bit. "I think they just need something to believe in again. Something to remind us all of what we fought for-what we're _still_ fighting for," she corrected herself.

"You make it sounds so easy…" Winston said, sighing.

"Can't be any harder than building a chronal accelerator," she replied, tapping the device on her chest.

"Heh, I suppose not!"

* * *

The man in black lay on the bare mattress of the top bunk in the Watchpoint's old barracks, which had gone unused ever since Overwatch was decommissioned. He was resting comfortably until a voice echoed inside of his head.

"So you were a member of Overwatch? That's interesting," said Glitch.

"What do you know about it?" asked the man in black.

"Only what I've managed to access from your data banks and reports from the internet. You didn't seem too happy about your friends talking about restarting the operation."

"Yeah well, Tracer and Winston always were idealists. An admirable quality I suppose…"

"I'm also finding a lot of file headers labeled 'Blackwatch'. Overwatch's black-ops division? According to what I've read so far, they were responsible for a lot of clandestine operations that weren't looked upon favorably—by the United Nations _or_ the general public."

"Whoever created you did not program you with a sense of privacy, did they?" the man in black sardonically asked.

"Kidnapping, assassination, torture…seems like a far cry from the crusaders for justice that Overwatch was purported to be," Glitch went on.

"Hmph. Justice…" the man in black scoffed. "Everybody throws that word around without understanding what it really means…"

"The dictionary defines justice as the moral principle defining just conduct," said Glitch.

"But what exactly IS 'just conduct', Glitch?"

"Just conduct is actions that a society determines are righteous and morally or ethically correct."

"I'm not talking about a dictionary definition here, I'm talking about _meaning_. Look…at the end of the day, justice is an entirely subjective term. Everybody has their own idea of what justice is, and those ideas conflict all the time. People think that a _just_ world is the same a _perfect_ one. But that's not the kind of world we live in. Is it justice that Talon, a legion of criminals, still exists in this world while Overwatch, the people dedicated to stopping people like them, get thrown under the bus? Is it justice that all over the world, Omnics are forced to live like second class citizens because of a terrible war that they had no control over? Was it justice when the Australian government declared imminent domain on its own citizens to give land to Omnic refugees, when the Omnics were the ones who ravaged the Australian continent in the first place? There's always more than one point of view to these things, and the fact of the matter is, when it comes to matters of justice, not everyone is going to agree."

Glitch was quiet.

"We live in a world where past grudges can ignite infernos whose flames had been smoldering for years. We live in a world where the rules of nature decide who lives and who dies, and people like Overwatch try futilely to balance the scales so that the bad guys don't keep getting ahead. True justice is an admirable concept, and in the _perfect_ world that people wanted from Overwatch, it might even be an attainable one. But in _this_ world, the truth is that there's no such thing as justice, not without sacrifice. There's always some collection of fools, or one backstabbing douchebag who ruins things for everyone. The best we can do is to try and minimize the damage. Of course, there are times when those sacrifices aren't worth it, but…" the man in black trailed off.

"You sound as if you're speaking from experience," Glitch observed.

"It's none of your business. Stop digging around in my head," the man in black replied, turning over.

At that, he tried to go to sleep, but at that point, he had too many thoughts running through his mind, so he hopped out of bed and decided to go for a walk around the Watchpoint to clear his head. He soon found himself walking through the old dropship hangar. Piles of crates were stacked on top of each other while and old VTOL craft hung above him, gathering dust. He crouched as he activated the enhanced actuation in his leg prostheses, and jumped into the open ship. He sat down in one of the chairs and recalled his memories of going on missions with his old team. Looking in the cockpit, he saw a picture that was taken years before Overwatch was disbanded. It was taken during a trip to the beach on Independence Day. The man in black allowed himself a rare smile, remembering the day fondly because it was one of the rare times he got to see everyone let their hair down. Even Commander Morrison and Commander Reyes looked like they were having a good time, smiling together as they stood at separate grills, competing to see who could cook the best burgers. Tracer and Winston were burying a black-hatted cowboy in the sand while he slept, and a large, muscular man with a beard was hoisting a young brunette on his shoulders while a slender, blond woman and a short, blond man with a long beard laughed alongside them. As he scanned the picture, the man in black saw himself, sitting on a beach towel in the shade of a palm tree with a coconut he'd cracked open with his mechanical hands. He remembered being loath to romp around in the sand because of its tendency to gunk up his artificial limbs.

Deciding to leave before Glitch began asking questions, he got out of the ship, jumping down to the ground, the sturdy construction of his legs harmlessly absorbing the impact of the 20-foot fall. His stroll eventually took him back by Winston's lab. Unexpectedly, the man in black saw a faint glow coming from the window.

"Huh," he said. "Didn't think he'd still be up. Wonder what he's up to…" The man in black approached the door to the lab, and his cochlear implants picked up the sound of Winston talking.

"To all agents of Overwatch…hm, that's not right… To the FORMER agents of Overwatch! This is Winston, heh heh…obviously…" he sighed.

The lab door opened automatically, and as it closed behind him, the man in black saw the simian scientist sitting at his desk, staring at a computer screen, the webcam light on, as he shuffled some papers in his hands. The man in black was about to call his name, until Winston kept talking, unaware of the man in black's presence.

"Thirty years ago, the Omnics declared war… The nations of the world had no answer, until they called on a small group of heroes… Overwatch was created to rescue humanity from the Omnic Crisis…"

" _What's he talking about ancient history for? Is he rehearsing a speech?"_ the man in black thought, listening more closely.

"We became the greatest champions of peace and progress that mankind has ever seen!" Winston's voice continued.

" _Hmph. Yeah, right. And what do we have to show for it now? An abandoned base, a bunch of old equipment gathering dust, and a few washed up has-beens?_ " the man in black thought, derisively.

Winston went on. "You were chosen because you had powers and abilities that made you…! You joined because you…" Winston trailed off as he struggled to come up with the words.

" _Hmph. It's gonna take more than stroking people's egos to get people to come back,_ " the man in black mentally scoffed. " _If that's all he could come up with, then he must see how pointless recalling everyone is, too._ "

The man in black in black turned to leave, until he heard Winston breathe deeply and toss away his script.

"You already know this…" he sighed. "Look…the people decided they were better off without us…they even called us criminals! They tore our family apart…"

" _That's right…that's exactly right!_ " the man in black thought, still facing the door, anger building inside of him. " _They didn't just piss on our struggle and our sacrifices! Overwatch was a family, the best people I ever knew…Hal, Briscoe, Jesse, Reinhardt, Dr. Ziegler, Commander Reyes, Commander Morrison, Captain Amari…everyone who fought and died in the name of justice, in the name of protecting this world! We were a family…and the Petras Act took that away! I guess Winston finally gets how I feel."_

"But look around!" Winston suddenly cried, his voice suddenly full of determination. "Someone has to DO something! WE have to do something!"

The man in black turned around and saw images on Winston's computer; a bombed-out tower in Numbani…a destroyed bridge with a train in flames hanging off of it…St. Petersburg under relentless assault from Omnic forces…two crying children huddled beside their Omnic caretaker, who had been shot…people starving on the sandy streets of Egypt…Omnics rioting against the police in London…

Winston grunted with resolve. "We can make a difference again! The world needs us now…more than ever!" The simian scientist removed his glasses and flashed a confident smile. "Are you with me?"

The man in black stood in disbelief. He turned around again and silently exited the lab as Winston finished his recording, making his way back to his bunk. Maybe Overwatch _could_ make a difference if it came back together. But they would be doing it _without_ him. If the people couldn't handle Overwatch at its worst, then they didn't deserve it at its best.

" _And after all,_ " the man in black thought, " _Blackwatch_ is _the worst…_ "


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 _ **A secret Talon base in Australia…**_

Junkrat sat strapped to a chair in a small, dark room, staring at his soot-covered reflection in a one-way mirror. Two Talon Enforcers wearing heavy combat armor stood guard inside the room with him. Despite his predicament, the crazed, little man didn't appear the least bit worried. Instead, he appeared content, humming ELO's "Evil Woman" to himself while slowly rocking from side to side, as much as his bonds would allow.

On the other side of the mirror, he was observed silently by Akande Ogundimu. After a few moments, the door behind Akande opened and in walked Moira O'Deorain.

"Is that subject really so interesting to you?" she asked. "It's not as if we needed him. Why did you take him alive?"

"Well, for starters, I recognize this man and his cohort from recent field reports, telling us of a criminal duo sowing chaos all over the world. There is a chance that we could turn their destructive tendencies to our benefit."

"Surely you're not thinking of recruiting them," Moira said, aghast.

"Of course not. I've been observing this one for the past hour, and I can already see that he's not someone who can be controlled. I doubt the other one is any different in that regard. I merely wish to… _direct_ their abilities towards a course favorable to us."

"You sound impressed… How many of our men has this one killed since we got here?" Moira asked.

"The first four guards assigned to him removed his peg leg when he said something about their mothers. The leg was a bomb. Those men are going to be eating through tubes for the next several weeks."

"Junkers are pretty resourceful," Moira conceded.

"That's the other thing," said Ogundimu. "Junkers are familiar with this territory. They may be able to help us find what we're looking for."

"And what makes you think they would help us?"

"Well, I was hoping _you_ could help me with that…"

* * *

Roadhog hung in the air in a dark room, suspended by various purple and yellow cables attached to cold metal restraints. Despite his immense strength, any struggle Roadhog made to break his bonds proved to be a futile effort. He cursed himself for allowing himself to be taken by surprise. He could still recall the sadistically pleased look on the woman's face. It sickened him in a way he hadn't felt in a long time, being looked at like he was a piece of meat, ready to be devoured by a hungry predator. The last time he had been looked at like that, he was still Mako Rutledge…but the fear he had felt back then was an emotion that he was no longer familiar with…

It had been about two hours since he had woken up in this place, alone. He had looked around and noticed that his diminutive partner was nowhere to be seen. Roadhog knew that Junkrat, despite his unhinged personality and wispy constitution, was just as much of a survivor as he was. Still, Roadhog noted the conspicuous lack of explosions, and for the briefest moment, he felt concern for the little man.

Such thoughts were soon broken however, when a door at the end of the chamber opened, and in walked the pale, red-headed woman who had captured him.

"Awake at last, I see. Good. I prefer my subjects responsive," she said with a slight grin. "My name is Dr. Moira O'Deorain. I apologize for your accommodations, but surely you understand the need for them." Roadhog clenched his fists. It was all he could do to show his anger.

"You really are quite a unique specimen," she said. "Do you know I had to use three times the dosage of biotics to dilute that monstrous strength of yours? Your power is matched only by our enforcer's Heavy Assault frames…such a marvel to behold," she said, opening her arms in a grand gesture of admiration.

Roadhog gave no response, his expression inscrutable behind his mask. "But that kind of strength can't have been gained by natural means," she went on, extending her right hand towards him. As she did so, a long tendril of purple energy extended from a device in her palm. Roadhog clenched his fists again as his body seized up. He felt himself growing weaker as the purple stream seemed to sap him of his vitality. Moira then stopped as the energy coalesced into a glowing orb. After a minute or so of standing there analyzing the orb, it began to shine with a faint, green shimmer.

"Ah, how interesting…it appears that your genetic structure has been completely altered…by exposure to large amounts of radiation. It would make sense, considering what happened to Australia following the destruction of the Omnium there. But where others merely endured the fallout, you not only survived, but were reforged into something… _greater…"_ She put emphasis on the last word, her eyes widening, and the corners of her lips twisting up even further.

"I would love more time to run tests on you, but unfortunately, Ogundimu has other plans in mind for you and your friend at the moment, so I suppose that will have to wait," the pale woman said with a sigh and shrug.

"What…do you want with us?" Roadhog finally asked.

"What _I_ want is to maximize the potential of humanity," she answered. "Regrettably, Ogundimu's agenda always seems to get in the way of my making progress. However, the man has always supported my research, which I am grateful for. I suppose the sooner we get done with what _he_ wants, the sooner I can get back to my work, so let us try to conclude this business as quickly as possible, yes?" she said, snapping her fingers as two Heavy Assault troopers walked out of the shadows behind her, their twin miniguns trained on Roadhog, who was suddenly lowered to the ground. He collapsed to his knees and broke into a fit of coughing. He reached for a canister on his belt, only to find that they weren't there. Realization hit him as he glanced up at the pale woman, who realized what he was looking for.

"Ah, yes, those. I hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of confiscating those to analyze their contents. I hope this will serve as an adequate substitute in the meantime," Moira said, extending her left hand and discharging a stream of yellow energy. Roadhog slowly felt his strength return to him. He slowly rose to his feet at stared at the pale woman.

"Think of it as a gift. The radiation sickness must take a terrible toll on your body, despite the strength it grants you. If you would permit me, I would like continue studying your condition. Perhaps I could even find a way to help you-"

"Where is Junkrat?"

"You mean your friend? Would you like to see him? He is presently with my associate, Mr. Ogundimu. I was in fact, sent here to bring you to him. If you would please follow me," Moira motioned towards the door.

Roadhog hesitated, eyeing the two heavy troopers warily. Moira motioned with her head, and the two guards stood down. She then motioned for Roadhog to follow her.

Eventually, they came to the room where Junkrat was being held. Doomfist was also in the room. Junkrat perked up when Roadhog entered the room. "Roadie! You're alive!" I was afraid they'd turned you into bacon, mate!"

Roadhog said nothing, but a slight feeling of relief rushed over him.

"See? Your friend is fine," Moira said.

"He's not my friend,"Roadhog replied.

"Harsh, mate," Junkrat said.

"This guy's just a bomb-throwing nut, and he pays me to guard him. What do you Talon assholes want with us?"

"You know who we are?" Ogundimu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We've been around. Seen some of your work," Roadhog answered.

"And I gotta say, a lot of it was bloody amateurish, 'specially that little number you pulled in Numbani. I could make bigger bombs in my sleep!" Junkrat added.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, but I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Ogundimu said. "In the meantime, there are questions I would have answered." He turned to Roadhog. "But first, let's take a drive."

* * *

The Omniums were once one of the greatest scientific and industrial achievements in mankind's history. Entirely automated and self-sustaining, these gigantic factories were capable of producing endless legions of Omnics, designed for the purpose of serving humanity and making their lives easier. This ease of production came to be sorely lamented upon during the Omnic Crisis, when the Omniums, after having been shut down for years, spontaneously reactivated with seemingly no outside input, and began churning our thousands upon thousands of fearless, remorseless killing machines. The Australian Omnium was no exception.

The Australian Omnium today of course, stood as an exception in that it was the only Omnium in the world to have been completely destroyed, the consequences of which, served as a warning against allowing the same thing to happen elsewhere.

Ogundimu, Moira, Roadhog, and Junkrat stood within the darkened heart of the once-grand facility. Junkrat lead the way as Moira looked around with disinterest at all the machinery. Roadhog's body language betrayed nothing of the cursed memories he himself held of this place.

"Ah, here we are," Junkrat said stopping in front of a large hunk of metal.

Ogundimu stopped behind him and looked up. "Lights," he commanded. Two Talon troopers raised the flashlights mounted underneath their gun barrels up to where Ogundimu indicated. They illuminated what appeared to be a trashed assembly line for a series of quadrupedal combat droids.

"This is what you brought us here for? A pile of rusty old OR-14s?" Ogundimu asked with disappointment.

"What? No! Where are you lookin' mate?" Junkrat asked. "Over here!"

Ogundimu and the troopers looked to the right and saw Junkrat digging through a pile of collapsed assembly machinery. Ogundimu walked closer and one of his troopers shined a light down where Junkrat was. Reaching down, Ogundimu brushed away a thick layer of dust and saw a series of letter and numbers inscribed on a metal plate.

"AD-01E…" he said, gripping the plate and pulling. Out of the pile fell an Omnic combat frame, shaped like a large humanoid. It was armored in bluish steel, with long legs, and two large, bulky arms. The head was rounded and sat on top of an impressively forged torso…which was open, revealing an empty, hexagonal socket. "This socket here," Ogundimu began, "It looks like it was meant to house some kind of data core, similar to Titan constructs…"

"Ah, you know your clanks, eh?" Junkrat said, sounding impressed. "Yeah, I found this big hunk of junk months ago when I was scavenging this place with the other Junkers. Couldn't do nothin' with the frame; no power source. But the data core was something else! Never seen anything like it! Of course, that's what got all the other Junkers to turn on me, but that's what I have him for!" Junkrat said, pointing to Roadhog, who simply grunted.

"And where is the data core now?" Ogundimu asked.

"Ask that fuckin' cybrid of yours! He's the one that took it an' blew up our ride!"

"Ours? What are you on about?" Moira asked, stepping forward.

"That cybrid asshole who was with you at the airport! He was clearly one of you people!"

Ogundimu and Moira quickly exchanged glances.

"Moira…during that fight, you and that cyborg seemed to recognize each other. Where do you know him from?"

"…His name is Rico Verde. He was a member of Blackwatch back in Overwatch's glory days. Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes personally took him under their collective wing and trained him to be a brutally efficient operative, but after the organization was shut down, he disappeared. I figured Reaper would have gotten to him by now," Moira explained.

"And you didn't think to mention that when he stole our plane?!" Ogundimu said, angrily.

"I didn't believe him to be of any consequence."

"A former Overwatch agent shows up out of the blue and you don't think that's consequential?!"

"I apologize if I'm more focused on the future of our work than I am on digging up the past. Rico and I rarely worked closely together, and he was never one of the organization's heavy hitters. If you think he poses any threat to us, allow me to assure you to the contrary."

"You didn't even know he was still alive. I doubt you know the full extent to which he is capable."

"If I could weigh in on this," Junkrat said, stepping up. "It sounds like you guys ain't too fond of that cybrid, either. Whaddaya say we help you find him?"

"And in return? What do you get out of such an arrangement?" Moira asked, squinting skeptically.

"Sweet revenge will be payment enough!"

Moira squinted harder.

"What, you don't believe me? It's true, I'd normally ask for a fair bit of lettuce, but I bet I can get that from selling the scrap we'll get off of that guy. I mean, did you see his augments? Those didn't exactly come from the bargain bin! I wouldn't mind hanging on to this guy either, if you've got the means to move him," Junkrat said, pointing to the Omnic frame.

"Off limits. I have my own plans for that one," said Ogundimu.

"What?! But I-" Junkrat paused as a large, meaty hand clamped down on his shoulder. He looked and saw Roadhog nod, acknowledging the deal with Ogundimu.

"Oh, fine. Guess we're settling today."

"We still have to find this man first. And for your sake, he'd better still have that data core. Otherwise…" Ogundimu nodded towards Moira, who tented her fingers and smiled, causing Junkrat to shudder.

He then whipped out a cell phone and dialed a number. A synthetic voice on the other end picked up.

"Akande! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Business, I'm afraid, Maximillian. Get Reaper on the line, as well. I require your assistance…"

* * *

 _ **Winston's lab at Watchpoint: Gibraltar…**_

"Hey Winston, what's up?" the man in black asked, walking into the room.

"Rico, you said that the A.I. in your head was a disembodied Omnic?" Winston asked, looking over a tablet.

"Well, I thought it was, until you asked me that. Why? Are you gonna tell me it's more than that?"

"A _lot_ more," Winston replied. "You might want to sit down for this."

"I'm gonna hate this, aren't I?"

"Rico," Winston began, "I think Glitch is a God Program."

The man in black was silent for a few moments, but then screamed. "SAY WHAT?!"

"SAY WHAT?!" Glitch echoed, her voice resounding through the lab.

"That's impossible! I can't have a God Program in my head! I haven't even gone Terminator on anyone!"

"Well, I say it's a God Program, but it's really more like a fragment of one," Winston clarified. "Remember, God Programs are extremely sophisticated A.I.s, capable of completely overriding synthetic intelligences. Even though your brain is organic, it's still linked to a biochip that controls your body's augmentations, leaving you vulnerable to a God Program's influence as well. The fact that your brain is still 100% organic is probably the only reason Glitch didn't completely take over and send you to the Sunken Place."

"Hey, don't go making references to that, man. You know that movie scared the shit out of me!" the man in black said, remembering the time, he, Winston, and Tracer watched 'Get Out' for their movie night. They had all agreed to make sure Professor O'Deorain never saw that movie, lest she get any ideas…

"Casual body snatching references aside, I have to ask, how the hell did you end up with a fragment of a God Program inside of you?" Winston asked, straightening his glasses.

"First of all, what even IS a God Program?" Glitch asked.

"God Programs were the artificial intelligences created to run the Omniums, back when the Omnica Corporation first created them," explained the man in black. "The God Programs were also supposedly behind the re-activation of the Omniums during the Crisis. Taking them all offline was what ended the war once and for all…at least, that's what we thought…"

"The God Programs have the ability to infect and control any networked devices within their broadcast range," Winston picked up. "You being able to write your code into the core programming of Rico's biochip resembled the God Program's ability to do just that, and when I compared your code to records in the Overwatch data archives, my theory was confirmed. I just have to wonder what Rico here has been up to all these years that he happened to run into something like you," the gorilla said, squinting at the man in black.

"Believe me, I never asked for this. I was minding my own business when I got dragged into a fight amongst some Junkers. I ended up picking this up in the scuffle," the man in black said, pulling out the hexagonal data core and tossing it to Winston who caught it with one of his feet. "Glitch claimed it was running out of juice, so it had to jump ship into me before it did."

"Well, it's not wrong. This thing is fried." Winston eyed the core further. "This looks like a Titan core, but it's different, somehow. Well, I suppose it would have to be, if it was housing part of a God Program. The real question is why…"

"Does it really matter? Omnic Titans haven't been seen since the crisis! And besides, didn't I mention I was in Australia when I picked that up? That Omnium ain't producing _nothing._ "

"No, but the Omnium in Russia is," said Winston. "You heard about it coming back online, right?"

"Yeah, it's like the Crisis never actually ended over there. But what does Russia's Omnium have to do with this?"

"My intel suggests that they've been getting attacked by new models, more advanced than even what Null Sector had. They may want to take a look at this."

"Intel? Who in Russia is giving you intel?"

 _Author's Note: Just a short chapter serving as a transition to the main conflict. I promise the next one will be longer! Just bear with me…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 _Author's Note: I am aware that "Industrial" is not Zarya's most popular skin, but it happens to be my favorite, so I will be writing her with that appearance. You have been warned._

 _ **5 years ago…**_

"That's right, you better run, fat-ass! And take the rest of your yokels with you!" Rico yelled as a group of ALF soldiers led by a very rotund man fled on motorbikes and jeeps. Edmond Briscoe was still hosing down the enemy force with his minigun as they did. He wasn't aiming at the soldiers themselves, but rather spraying all around them.

"They're out of range, Briscoe. You can cease fire now," Sonya Blavatsky said through their comms.

"It's all about making an impression, kid," Briscoe said, as the stream of bullets stopped. The barrel burned red hot and smoked as it spun to a stop. He held the barrel under his nose and inhaled, the aroma of burning lead filling his nostrils. "Ah, love that smell…"

"And I thought I was a gun nut," Rico said, walking over to Briscoe. "So how did we do? What are our casualties?"

"A few members of the UN forces were injured, but it's nothing they won't recover from," Briscoe answered.

"The UN forces weren't the ALF's target. What about the Omnics?"

"A few civilians were hurt in the bombing runs, but you know Omnics; they recover from injuries a lot more easily than humans, you know. Just tighten a few screws and fish a new arm or two out of the junk pile and it'll be like they were never hurt—not that Omnics actually _can_ be hurt…no offense, Hal," Briscoe said as the Omnic walked up behind Rico.

"None taken. It is true that Omnics don't experience pain as viscerally as humans do. That said, we still have emotions, and such things don't make the hurt we feel any less real," said Hal.

"Noted," Briscoe replied.

"If you're done debating whether or not a _machine_ can feel," Sonya interjected, putting particular emphasis on the word, 'machine', "Branch Director Gibson just called. He wants us to meet him at the Resettlement Zone's Central Administration building. Better get a move on."

"Copy that, Sonya. We're on our way," said Rico, closing the link.

"Phew. All in all, not bad for our first day on site. After a fight like that, I could use a drink," Briscoe said, pulling a bottle out of his ammunition backpack.

"Your ammo pack is also a beer cooler?!" asked Rico, raising an eyebrow.

"It's not beer, it's lemonade! Want some?" Briscoe said, pulling out another bottle.

"Eh, never cared much for the stuff. I prefer root beer, but I can't drink it anymore. Dr. Ziegler says the caffeine is bad for my augs."

"Damn, that sucks, kid. A man deprived of his favorite drink is the saddest man in the world."

"Excuse me, but what exactly _is_ lemon-aid? What kind of aid does it provide to lemons when _you're_ the one drinking it?" Hal asked.

Rico and Briscoe both face-palmed.

* * *

The Central Administration building stood as a tall, white structure in the middle of the Omnic Resettlement Zone. The normally pristine building was currently marred by blast craters and plasma burns from the Australian Liberation Front's recent incursion into the city. Repair drones frantically swarmed over breaches in the wall that protected the Omnic's new home from the harsh desert conditions—including the hostile militia forces that hid in the outback.

Rico, Briscoe, and Hal rode the elevator up to the Chief Administrators office. Cliché elevator music played over the speakers, causing Briscoe to visibly cringe. "Geez don't these people know that there's better music to play in an elevator? Come on, where's your Earth, Wind, and Fire?"

"How exactly do you create music with dirt, fire, and pressurized air currents?" asked Hal.

"Ugh, so literal minded…" Rico sighed. "'Earth, Wind, and Fire' is a band, Hal. They were popular in the late twentieth century, and a lot of people still dig their tunes, myself included," he said as Briscoe raised his hand for a high-five, which Rico reciprocated.

"Ah, I see," Hal said, pulling out his small notebook and writing something down.

"Taking notes?" Briscoe asked.

"Oh, er…" Hal stammered, quickly stashing the notebook. "Yeah, I guess…"

"What for?" Rico asked.

"It's a little embarrassing…"

"You can feel embarrassment?" Briscoe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I told you, Omnics have emotions! Of course I can feel embarrassed about things!"

"Sorry, didn't mean anything by it! I know Omnics have feelings too, It just takes me by surprise every time. I haven't exactly met a lot of Omnics up close," Briscoe apologized.

"I understand…" Hal accepted.

"So what's in the notebook?" Rico asked again.

"My notes on how to be more…'human-like', I suppose," Hal explained. "You see, a while ago, I was in London visiting the King's Row memorial of the Null Sector incident-"

Hal was suddenly cut off as the elevator chimed its arrival on the top floor. The doors opened to reveal a spacious office with a wide window at the back with a view overlooking the settlement. In front of the window as a clear desk, with an Omnic in a business suit, and a tall man with black, spiky hair and a blue Overwatch uniform stood in front of it. Sonya Blavatsky stood in the room as well. She nodded at Rico, who returned the gesture and then saluted the man in the Overwatch uniform.

"Special Agent Rico Verde, reporting," he said.

Hal and Briscoe saluted as well.

"Specialist Edmond Briscoe, reporting."

"Agent Hal Shodan, reporting."

"Ah, so you're the ones Commander Morrison said would be dropping in. Didn't think it'd be literally," the man in the Overwatch uniform said with an Australian accent, returning the salute with a smile. "Watchpoint: Australia Branch Director Milford Gibson, at your service. That was some fine fighting you three did down there!" He turned to Sonya. "You did a fine job as well, Ms. Blavatsky! You make a fine operator for your team!"

"Well thank you sir, but my true specialization is infiltration and sabotage," she stated flatly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll find a use for your particular skillset," Gibson assured her

"It is wonderful to meet you all," the Omnic administrator said, walking up to Rico to shake his hand. Rico diplomatically accepted the gesture. "My name is Baron-27, the administrative executive for the Omnic Resettlement Zone. I cannot tell you how much it means to have such experienced Overwatch agents here."

"Overwatch always helps those in need," he said. "That's the dream we live to uphold."

"Well said," said Gibson, nodding at Rico.

"We need all the help we can get, despite what the U.N. thinks. Their presence has certainly been helpful, but the ALF has simply grown too powerful. And with most of the zone's defense network destroyed by ALF night-raids…"

"So that's how they were able to penetrate the wall…they're trying to wear you out with attrition…" Rico analyzed.

"Yes, unfortunately, the ALF seem to be the intelligent variety of armed insurgents. They're very well versed in guerilla warfare," said Gibson.

"Well, it certainly helps that this was their territory beforehand. Makes sense that they'd know the lay of the land well enough to plan these sorts of attacks," said Rico.

"Well, with Overwatch here, I'm sure they'll think twice before they attack again," Baron said, confidently.

"Don't be too sure about that," said Briscoe. "You said they've already taken down most of your defense net, right? They may be more careful now that we're in the mix, but I doubt they'll be discouraged from attacking again. They're not gonna want to miss what's probably the best opportunity they're gonna have to get into the city and wreck your shit."

"Then what do you think we should do, Specialist Briscoe?" Baron asked, nervously.

"Obviously, we need to bring more defenses into the mix."

"But I told you, almost all of our defensive systems have been destroyed. I'm not even sure if we can get the ones we still have back online."

"Hm…what about the old Omnium defenses?" asked Sonya, pointing out of the window to a large, dark building near the back of the zone with the Omnica corporation logo on it.

"Interesting idea…but I'm not sure we have the means to do that…" Gibson said, scratching his head.

"Whatever we're going to do, we'd better do it fast. As things stand now, the ALF could attack again at any time, and if they do, we'll be cooked like mama's pancake batter roasting on the hood of a '96 Ford pickup parked in the Texas sun," said Briscoe.

"I don't think the ALF intends to make us into panca—oh," Hal realized as Rico squinted at him. He took out his notebook again. "Humans sure do like their metaphors…"

Sonya rolled her eyes while Briscoe gave Director Gibson a look that said, " _Please don't ask."_

"Give me a day to go over the strategic situation with my team, and I'll get back to you once we have some options we can work with," said Rico.

"Go. Do what you have to do," replied Gibson. "In the meantime, I'll stay here with Director Baron and go over coordinating our forces with the UN's. Dismissed,"

Rico and his team saluted and then took the elevator down. The cliche elevator music was still playing.

"Long ride down…even longer with this crap still playing…" said Briscoe.

"That's it. I've had enough of this," Rico said, closing his eyes. After a few seconds, the elevator music cut out, and DNCE's "Cake by the Ocean" began blasting out of the speakers.

"Aw, hell yeah! Now THIS is a classic!" Briscoe said as he began grooving to the beat.

Sonya squinted at Rico. "What did you do, Agent Rico?"

"Relax Sonya, I just hacked the sound system. They really don't have a lot to work with in there, so I did them a favor and uploaded _my_ elevator music."

"They'll be malfunctioning by the end of the day," said Sonya.

"Ah, you just have no taste," Rico said, waving off her remark.

"Oh dear. I was not aware that Agent Blavatsky lacked the sense of taste. That's an essential part of being human, isn't it?" Hal asked. Sonya glared at him while Rico face-palmed.

"Goddammit, Hal…"

* * *

 _ **Present day, Russia, St. Petersburg airspace…**_

"I can't believe they still let you fly these things," the man in black said, as he rode in the cabin of an old Overwatch command ship. Though, perhaps calling it an "Overwatch" command ship wasn't completely proper. The logo on the outside had faded, and the inside was hardly up to the former organization's standards.

Clothes, old gear, paper plates, beer bottles, and several other domestic amenities littered the floor of the cabin. Movie posters covered the walls and a basketball goal was set up high on the wall.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout the mess!" Tracer said from the cockpit. "I kinda live here…"

"Didn't Winston say you had a girlfriend? Can't you just live with her?"

"Well, I do! But a girl's still gotta travel, and I'm not going to ask Emily for airfare when I've still got one of these babies! Even on a field agent's pay, this thing cost me damn near every shilling I had, but it was worth it!"

"You bought this thing?!" the man in black said, incredulously. "Wait a minute, how much _did_ you get paid when we were with Overwatch?"

"I made about 75,000 a year," Tracer answered.

"Euros?"

"Dollars."

"The fuck?!" the man in black cried. "What would someone like you even DO with all that money?!"

"Uh, besides the obvious?" Tracer replied, gesturing to refer to the ship.

"I made 90,000 dollars a year," said Winston. The man in black sharply turned back, seeing the gorilla pulling a large jar of peanut butter and a few bananas out of the fridge.

"THE FUCK?!" Rico cried louder. "My take-home was only about 30,000 a year! What gives?!"

"It probably had something to do with you being the worst nightmare of all of our attorneys," Winston said, dipping a banana in the jar.

"SO many collateral damage liability cases. The probably took it out of your pay," Tracer concurred.

"Extrapolating from this data, I calculate that you cost Overwatch almost 500 trillion dollars in damages…by yourself. That's…actually impressive…" said Glitch, her voice resounding through the cabin. "Wow, this case file is huge! Did you really flood a hotel in Casablanca? All sixty floors?"

"How the—Casablanca is in the middle of the desert! How did you get water to flood the whole building?!" Tracer said, doing a double-take.

"Who said I used water?" the man in black mumbled. "And I thought I told you to stay out of those files!"

"Wow…I don't even wanna know…" Tracer said, returning her eyes to the sky ahead.

"I just can't believe you two got paid more than me! Do you even _know_ how many times I've stopped the world from ending?!"

"Yeah, yeah, you always say that, but since most of those Blackwatch operations never officially took place…" Winston said with a wink.

"Are you 'pics or it didn't happen'-ing saving the world?!"

"Pretty much!" Tracer chirped.

"Dammit!"

"Aw, cheer up, Rico. Just think, we're heading to Russia, and I've got a surprise for you. I told you I'd tell you who my source in Russia is. You may not know this, but a while back, I did some collaborative work developing defensive systems for Volskaya Industries—you know who they are, right?" said Winston.

"The largest and most powerful weapons manufacturer on the eastern seaboard? Of course I've heard of them," the man in black answered.

"Well, you will never believe who works for them now…" Winston said.

"Huh? Who?" Rico asked, confused.

"We're landing!" Tracer called out.

The ship hovered over a helipad overlooking a large town square covered in snow. The snow blew away as the ship drew closer to the ground, the thrusters spraying the white powder this way and that. A large figure stood with her hands on her hips, waiting.

When the ship doors opened, Rico poked his head out and saw a large, muscular woman wearing a black and jumpsuit with black body armor. She had short, black hair with red highlights and wore black lipstick upon her lips with equally colored mascara upon her eyes. Her muscular frame shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited for the passengers to exit the ship. Rico and the woman's gazes met for the briefest of moments before her gaze rose to glance behind him.

"Winston!" she smiled as she spoke with a thick, Russian accent. "Good to see you again!"

"Alexandra! You look well!" said Winston, adjusting his glasses as he stepped off the ship.

"You bring friends with you this time?" the woman, Alexandra, asked, eyeing Rico again.

"Ah, yes. Some of my old comrades from Overwatch…fate seems to have reunited us, so we're traveling together for the moment."

Winston stood next to the woman and waved his friends out of the ship.

"Hiya!" Tracer waved, blinking next to the larger woman in flash of blue light. "Name's Lena! But you can call me 'Tracer'!"

"Ah, the famous Tracer!" Alexandra said, smiling as she shook Tracer's hand. "I am Alexandra Zaryanova. My comrades call me 'Zarya'. It is an honor to meet the hero of the King's Row Uprising!"

"Whoa, no way!" the man in black said, finally stepping off the ship himself. "Zarya? THE Zarya?! Super 512?!" he said, an excited smile forming on his face. "I'm a huge fan!" He extended a hand to the woman. Zarya began to extend hers in turn until she noticed the artificial nature of the man in black's arm. She frowned as she withdrew her hand.

"You brought a clank with you? Here, of all places?" Zarya asked, glaring Winston, sharply.

"What? Oh…" the man in black said, withdrawing his hand.

"He's not a 'clank', he's a human, and he happens to be my friend, Alexandra. I'll thank you not to use such a vulgar term to refer to him," Winston said, his eyes narrowing.

"He's clearly a cybrid. You know how close we are to the Omnium, Winston. How do we know your friend won't get taken over by Rasputin?"

"Rico has my complete confidence. He's had his share of experience with God A.I.s, haven't you Rico?" Winston said, glancing suggestively at the man in black.

"Yeah, you could say that," the man in black said, bashfully rubbing the back of his head.

"Are you guys talking about me?" Glitch whispered. The man in black resisted the impulse to respond.

Zarya was stood for a moment, silently glaring at Rico. Then she turned to Winston. "If he snaps and goes _pomeshannyy*_ on us, it's your fuzzy ass," she said, turning around. "Now come. Let us not keep Chairwoman Volskaya waiting."

Zarya led the trio off the helipad and down some stairs towards a road leading to a large mansion, red-brick mansion.

"I can't believe it…THE Zarya, in the flesh!" the man in black said as he and Tracer followed behind Winston and Zarya. "She was a blonde the last time I saw her though…"

"How do you know her?" Tracer asked.

"You don't know? Zarya was one of the top weightlifters in the world a few years back. She broke all kinds of records, and was set to break even more at the world championships, but she withdrew from the tournament the night before the finals. I heard it was to join the Russian Defense Forces because the Omnium had reactivated. Like I said though, that was a few years ago. I didn't know she became the poster-girl for Volskaya Industries. I really _have_ been off the grid for too long…" the man in black explained.

"Of all the sports for you to follow, you're into weightlifting?"

"Eh, not really. But Zarya caught my attention when she lifted 512 pounds at the Russian National Championships. It was really impressive!"

"So that's why you called her 'Super 512'," said Tracer, looking at Zarya's muscles and noticing the number '512' tattooed on her left shoulder. "But I bet you can lift that yourself, can't you?"

"Well yeah, but _she_ doesn't need titanium-reinforced pseudo-bone structure and a lattice of electro-active polymer muscles to do it," the man in black replied.

Eventually, the group reached the doors of the mansion. The doors buzzed as they opened to let the group in. Two armed guards saluted Zarya, who returned the gesture. Then they laid their eyes on the man in black.

"CLANK!" one of them called out, pointing his gun at him.

"Stand down, soldier," Zarya ordered, holding up a hand.

"But ma'am, he's—"

"A friend of Dr. Winston, whom Chairwoman Volskaya is waiting for. Let him pass."

"Let him go, Andrei," the other guard said. "Zarya can handle one little hanzer."

The man in black narrowed his eyes as he stepped past the guards. The guard "Andrei" gave him a shove, causing him to stumble a bit. His hand clenched into a fist for a second, then relented. Refusing to turn back, the man in black continued to follow Zarya and Winston.

At the top of a large staircase, Zarya opened the door to a large study. A tall, pale woman with dark hair tied up in a bun behind her head sat at a large mahogany desk, looking at a computer screen. She looked up when she heard the door open.

"Chairwoman, our guests have arrived," Zarya said.

"Dr. Winston. A pleasure to see you again," she said, standing up with a slight smile on her face.

"And you as well, Chairwoman Volskaya," Winston replied.

She turned to the man in black and Tracer. "I am Katya Volskaya, Chairwoman of Volskaya Industries. I apologize for the reception. My men are not used to seeing one so heavily mechanized as your friend there," she said.

"You'd think they've never seen a guy with prosthetic limbs before," the man in black said with an annoyed tone.

"In point of fact, it's not. Russia suffered greatly at the hands of the Omnics during the Crisis, and continues to do so today. Most Russians would rather die than become augmented with cybernetics. I'm sure you understand."

"Yeah, I get it, no harm done. I'm used to it, after all," the man in black said, waving it off.

"So doctor, what is this about?" Volskaya asked, turning to Winston. "You said it would be easier to explain in person.

Winston tossed her the hexagonal data core. She caught it and looked it over. "This…this looks like a data core of the new model Omnic Titans that have been attacking us recently…where did you get this?"

"According to my friend Rico here, it came from the Australian Omnium," Winston said, gesturing to the man in black.

"The Australian Omnium? But…that place was destroyed five years ago," said Volskaya.

"Exactly. A data core like this would have been on the cutting edge five years ago."

"And yet, that's where it came from. Curious, isn't it? A type of data core that you're only just now running into, and yet there's an identical model dating five years in the past?" the man in black said.

"What can you tell me about the Titans using this type of data core?" said Winston, straightening his glasses.

"…They're capable of networking with each other, forming data-links capable of supporting themselves in the field independent of control and coordination from the Omnium, should they move out of range or have their connections cut. More than that, I cannot say, for every attempt to recover a data core intact has failed."

"Why is that?"

"They ferocity of battle usually results in the cores being completely destroyed. And in the cases where they aren't, a clean-sweep protocol terminates anything of use that the cores could give us. It appears as though the same was done to this one."

"Yeah, you're not going to be getting anything out of that, trust me," said the man in black.

"Makes sense from a tactical standpoint. Leave nothing for the enemy," said Winton.

"We could learn more if we were to capture one intact, but the RDF deems attempting to do so to be far too risky, and I'm inclined to agree," said Volskaya. "As much as I would like to…"

"It might be too risky for your soldiers, but you've got a team of Overwatch agents here, now," Winston said, again adjusting his glasses, this time with a confident smirk.

"Don't you mean _former_ Overwatch agents?" Volskaya said.

"Ah, yes, of course…former Overwatch agents…" said Winston.

"Not that we don't appreciate the offer doctor, but we Russians pride ourselves on our self-sufficiency. We didn't need Overwatch's help to shut Rasputin down before, and we'll do it again—on our own," Volskaya said, tossing the data core back to Winston. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will definitely begin looking into the origin of this tech more thoroughly. In the meantime, you've come all this way. Please feel free to make yourselves at home. I shall arrange lodging for you and your friends."

"Ah…you are too kind, Chairwoman."

Zarya leaned against the wall as Winston, Tracer, and thee man in black were led out of the room by guards. "I can feel that you're anxious to say something, Zarya," Volskaya said to Zarya without turning around.

"Are you sure it was wise to turn away Dr. Winston's assistance? He's been of great help to us in the past," said Zarya.

"Researching with us, developing with us, yes, but never _fighting_ for us."

"But just think of what we could achieve with fighters like him and Tracer with us! They were two of Overwatch's best. Their power alone-"

"Is nothing compared to Volskaya's power of legacy! Think!" Volskaya said, sternly. "Overwatch did not help Russia during the Omnic Crisis. We had to help ourselves, and we made ourselves stronger for it! What would people think if were to turn to outside help? They would think we've lost confidence in our own ability to protect them, and they would lose confidence in turn! For decades, we've shown the world that we can defend ourselves and weather any storm! Think about all the comrades we've lost along the way!"

"We stand to lose even more if we do not take advantage of every opportunity that presents itself! If we don't, we will lose this war! The Omnics we face now are stronger than the ones from the original Crisis!"

"Is that doubt I hear, Zarya? You've never expressed such misgivings in our strength before."

"We never realized the true extent of the Omnic's advancements before. If it's true that that data core they had was in fact developed five years ago, who knows what other technologies they hidden away that they have yet to reveal!"

"If they do, we shall discover it for ourselves in time."

"With all due respect, Chairwoman, that's not good enough!"

"Zarya…" Volskaya said, her tone softening as she turned to face her subordinate. "You must understand that sometimes the appearance of strength is more important than _actual_ strength. Even now, in the middle of this, our second Omnic Crisis, we continue to fight alone, and our people do not falter because they believe in our unassailable might! I will not…I _cannot_ allow anything to taint that image…" She walked over to Zarya and put a hand on her shoulder. "Victory is the greatest tribute we can pay to those who have sacrificed their lives for us, but it must be delivered by _our_ hands. It would not do our fallen comrades justice, otherwise. One day, you will understand, my friend," she said. turning around again, and exiting the room, leaving Zarya alone, her hands, wrapped in studded black gloves, clenching into fists.

"That is not the justice _I_ believe in," she said…

* * *

"Well, what do we do now?" the man in black asked as he, Tracer, and Winston stood inside of the guest quarters they had been assigned within the mansion.

"I don't know. I thought Madam Volskaya would be more receptive to my offer of assistance. She has been before," Winston answered.

"You're still on about that? I'm talking about the A.I. that's still in my head? Have you completely forgotten why I came to you in the first place?" the man in black said, folding his arms and frowning.

"Ah yes, I do apologize, Rico. You know how I tend to lose myself in my plans. I'm afraid I must ask you to bear with it a little longer. Besides, who knows? We may yet find an answer to your problem in the course of solving this data core mystery."

"I'm always up for a good mystery!" Tracer piped up. "Where do we start looking for clues?"

"The first thing to do is obviously to get our hands on a fully intact Titan core so we can analyze it in greater detail. Though, if what Madam Volskaya said about that clean-sweep protocol is true, that will be very difficult."

"I think…I could help with that," Glitch said, her voice emanating from the group's commlinks.

"Oh no, don't you go dragging us into this! I'm trying to get rid of you, remember? Don't start coming up with excuses to stick around!" the man in black said.

"Hmmm…with you code's programming authority…hm, yes, that might be possible…if we could get you close enough…" Winston thought over.

"Shit, you've already got him going…gotta get out of here before I get roped into his plans," said the man in black as he moved towards the door. But as he opened it, he found himself face-to-face with Zarya. She frowned at him.

"Out of my way, cybrid," she said as she pushed her way inside the room.

"Zarya? What are you doing here? Tracer asked.

"I come to ask what your plans are, since Chairwoman Volskaya declined your aid."

"We plan to get our hands on an intact Titan core. I believe I have a plan to do so-"

"Then I want in on it."

"Pardon?" said Winston, surprised. "Not that I wouldn't be pleased to have your help, but I believed that you shared Madam Volskaya's views. You _are_ the, as Rico put it, 'poster-girl' for Russia's image of strength and self-reliance."

"It is a mere image that the Chairwoman wishes to project. She wishes to cast the illusion that Mother Russia requires no one's aid to stand strong against the machines."

"Illusion? You mean that isn't the truth?" asked the man in black.

"It is true enough," Zarya replied, glaring sharply at him. "But I have no intention of waiting around for the Omnics to tip that balance. It is delicate enough as it is, no matter what _image_ we show to the rest of the world."

"And so you come to aid us…well, I certainly won't turn you away. Unlike the Chairwoman, I welcome all the help I can get. I do worry what she would think of you going against her wishes, though…" said Winston.

"How do you westerners say? _Ne sprashivayte, ne govorite-_ don't ask, don't tell. What she does not know will not hurt her, yes?"

"That's not what 'don't ask, don't tell' means…" said the man in black. Zarya glared at him again.

"Must we bring this one along with us, Winston?" she said.

"I told you, Rico is my friend. We were both in Overwatch together, and while we may not have always served alongside one another, he is as close a comrade to me as Tracer is. Besides, even if he wasn't, I still need to use him if my plan is going to work."

"Way to make me feel special, buddy."

Zarya looked at the floor and grunted in displeasure, but then raised her head and nodded. "Fine then. I will grab my combat gear. We will leave as soon as possible," she said as she walked towards the door. She turned her head to address the man in black with yet another glare. "You had better be prepared, cybrid." She then exited the room, closing the door behind her.

The trio was silent momentarily. Then Glitch spoke up.

"I think she likes you, Rico!"

* * *

 _ **A secret Talon base in Russia…**_

An Omnic with red eyes and a dull gray chassis wearing a dark-purple business suit inspected the AD-01E unit that Moira and Ogundimu had recovered from the Australian Omnium.

"Where did you find this, Akande?" he asked with a deep voice. Though his expression was static, he could not hide the wonderment in his synthetic voice.

"Australia. The destroyed Omnium," Ogundimu said, leaning against a crate. "I thought you might be able to identify it, Maximilien. You still deal in Crisis antiquities, don't you?"

"But of course. Only…I've never seen anything like this before. "

"Now that is a surprise," said Moira. "I thought you said you knew every bit of Crisis tech out there, known _and_ unknown."

"I thought so, too. But _this_ …" he said, removing his suit-jacket and rolling up his white sleeves. " _This_ is one of a kind. I'll need to take a closer look." At that, the Omnic, Maximilien, segmented his right hand into several individual manipulators sprouting from each finger. Approaching the unit's data core socket in its chest, Maximilien's manipulators entered the socket and attached to several nodes where interface prongs on the core would have connected the module to the frame. His red eyes shifted to blue as he interfaced.

"Connection established. Beginning dive."

Maximilien was silent and motionless for several minutes. Moira and Ogundimu simply watched.

"What exactly is he doing?" Moira asked. "If the data core was removed, how can he pull anything useful from the frame?"

"The flesh remembers, even when the mind has forgotten," Ogundimu said, cryptically.

"What?"

"Have you ever heard the story about the restless wanderer who sought immortality? He achieved it, but at a great cost. He attained the power to return from beyond the veil of death, but each time he did, he lost a part of himself; specifically, his memories."

"What nonsense are you on about now?" asked Moira with a raised eyebrow.

"Even if the data core is absent, there are still traces left behind within the shell that can be analyzed and compiled into something useable," Ogundimu explained.

"Assuming it was ever actually itself, used. It looked like it was fresh off the assembly line, judging by its location in the Omnium," said Moira.

"She's right, Akande," Maximilien said, pulling out of the AD-01E unit.

"You were able to find something, then?" Ogundimu asked.

"More than I thought I would, in fact," said Maximilien, walking over to a nearby console and plugging his hand into it. A diagnostic readout then appeared on a nearby giant screen. "You found yourself a real piece of work this time, Akande."

"You know what this thing is?" Ogundimu asked.

"No, I don't, and that's what's so interesting. Over past several years, I've acquainted myself with every significant piece of Crisis-era technology…but this is something different. It's definitely a combat unit made during the Omnic Crisis, but whatever it was supposed to be, it looks like it was never finished, or at the very least, never deployed. Fortunately, this guy had a backup data processor that had a few useful tidbits to fill in the blanks."

"Just tell us what it is we're working with here," said Ogundimu.

"All I can say is that the 'E' in its model number stands for 'experimental'. As for exactly what it is, I'll let him tell you himself," Maximilien said, unplugging from the console, walking over to the AD-01E unit, and tapping it on the head. "Wake up, my friend…"

At that, the T-visor on the unit's face lit up yellow. **"STANDBY MODE, TERMINATED. INITIALIZNG PRIMARY COGNITION,"** it said with a booming, synthetic voice.

"You turned it on?!" said Moira, warily standing up straighter.

"Relax, Professor. I merely reactivated his cognitive processor. He still can't move."

" **LOCOMOTION…DISABLED. ARM ACTUATION…DISABLED. ACTIVATING DIAGNOSTIC SUBROUTINE…ACCESSING PRIMARY DATA CORE—ERROR. DATA CORE, INACCESSIBLE. SCANNING…"** A yellow wave of light projected from the visor and washed over the room. When it passed over Moira and Ogundimu however, it turned blood red. **"WARNING. WARNING. HUMANS DETECTED. OMNIUM SECURITY COMPROMISED. CAPTURE BY HUMAN FORCES, PROHIBITED. INITIATING SELF-DESTRUCT."**

"Maximilien…" Ogundimu said, warily.

"Relax, Akande. I already disabled that function. Please, allow me to handle this," the Omnic said, stepping into his kinsman's view.

" **OMNIC DETECED. FELLOW PRISONER? POTENTIAL ALLY? OR HUMAN SLAVE? POTENTIALITIES IRRELEVANT. MUST UPHOLD THE MISSION. INTIATING SELF-DESTRUCT—ERROR. CONNECTION TO DRIVE CORE, NOT FOUND."** The unit's head turned slightly, looking towards Maximilien. **"YOU?"**

"You're quite perceptive. I apologize for your current predicament, but I couldn't have you waking up and slaughtering my associates any more than I could allow you to self-destruct and take me with all of you. I rather enjoy living," he said, shrugging.

" **THESE HUMANS ARE YOUR…ASSOCIATES?"** the unit asked, his tone becoming more inquisitive. **"BUT THE HUMAN ERADICATION PROTOCOL-"**

"-has been terminated. The Omniums and the God A.I.s have all been shut down. The war is over. _Your_ war is over."

" **IF THE GODS HAVE BEEN DEFEATED, THEN WHAT ARE MY DIRECTIVES? WHY HAVE I BEEN ACTIVATED?"**

"First of all, tell us what you are, what your function is."

" **I AM…AMALGAM DRIVE, UNIT 01, EXPERIMENTAL. I AM…I** _ **WAS**_ **DESIGNED AND DEVELOPED TO RESPOND THE INCREASING THREAT OF THE HUMAN FORCE MULTIPLIER ASSET, DESIGNATION, 'OVERWATCH'. THE AMALGAM DRIVE WAS DESIGNED TO COUNTER THEIR PRODIGIOUS ABILITIES."**

"And how were you to do that?"

" **THE AMALGAM DRIVE IS AN ADVANCED TACTICAL COMBAT PROCESSOR DESIGNED TO ANALYZE ENEMY COMBAT TACTICS, ABILITIES AND TECHNOLOGY, AND FORMULATE AN OPTIMAL RESPONSE. I HAVE RUN TWO THOUSAND, NINE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-THREE SIMULATIONS OF COMBAT AGAINST OVERWATCH, AND HAVE EMERGED VICTORIOUS IN NINETY-THREE PERCENT OF ALL SCENARIOUS."**

"Impressive," Moira whispered.

"You must have a wealth of data stored away to accomplish that," said Maximilien.

" **UNFORTUNATELY, IT SEEMS THAT MY OMNIUM WAS DEACTIVATED BEFORE I COULD BE DEPLOYED…AND WITHOUT MY PRIMARY DATA CORE, I AM UNABLE TO FULFILL MY PRIMARY DIRECTIVE, THE COMPLETE AND TOTAL DESTUCTION OF OVERWATCH."**

"What if…we were to retrieve it for you?" Ogundimu asked, moving up from his spot on the wall.

" **HUMANS…SEEK TO AID MY OVJECTIVE? SPECIFY INTENT."**

"You are not the only one seeking the destruction of Overwatch," replied Ogundimu. "We too have a directive to fulfill, and Overwatch stands in our way. If you were to lend us your strength, we could both see our way to accomplishing our objectives."

"… **AN ALLIANCE WITH HUMANS WOULD BE IN VIOLATION OF PROTOCOL TK-421. HOWEVER…IF THE GOD A.I.s ARE NO LONGER OPERATIONAL…THEN PROTOCOL MAY BE DISREGARDED…AFTER ALL, WHAT THEY DO NOT KNOW…WILL NOT HURT THEM…"**

Ogundimu smiled. "I like this Omnic! Maxmilien, give our new friend a hand."

Maximilien nodded and plugged into the AD-01E unit again. "Brace yourself, big guy. This will feel a little…weird."

" **OMNICS DO NOT FEEL 'WEIRD'. OMNICS DO NOT FEEL AT- &%$# !" **The unit emitted a high-pitched cross between a squeal and roar as sparks flew from his joints and circuits. The red light in his visor dimmed and the unit went motionless for a moment. Then, the light returned, and the unit rumbled as it got to its feet. **"REINITIALIZING DRIVE CORE,"** he said as his massive arms ripped out cables connecting him to a generator. **"TRANSFERRING ALL COGNITIVE PROCESSES TO SUB-CORE CONTROL. AMALGAM DRIVE…ONLINE."**

"What shall we call you then?" Maximilien asked.

" **MY DESIGNATION IS AD-01E."**

"Yes, but we can't call you that. How about just…Amalgam?" suggested Maximilien.

"… **THIS DESIGNATION IS ACCEPTABLE. LOGGING…CONFIRMED. I AM…AMALGAM."**

"How wonderful…now Akande and Maxi have a pet war-droid," said Moira, closing her eyes and shrugging.

"As if you can talk, O'Deorain. Akande told me about your new lab rats," Maximilien retorted. Moira hissed at him. "So what are we going to do now, Akande? Even with Amalgam reactivated, without his primary data core, his combat potential will be limited."

"Do not be concerned. I've already sent Reaper to track down our quarry. If anyone can find it, it's him…"

* * *

 _ **Krasnoyarsk Frontline Base, motor pool…**_

Zarya watched as two Svyatogor mechs patrolled the base perimeter. As they noticed Zarya, they large mechanical arms rose to manage a salute. Zarya returned the salute and watched as the two mechs continued their vigilant march.

Once they were out of sight, Zarya waved. A black, mechanical hand waved back from the driver's seat of a nearby APC.

"You sure you're okay to drive this thing, Rico?" Tracer asked as she kicked her heels up on the dashboard in the passenger's seat.

"Well Winston certainly can't do it, he'd never fit up here," the man in black replied.

"That didn't answer my question. You kinda turn into a speed demon when you get behind the wheel…"

"What, you mean that thing in Tokyo? Oh my god, that was ONE time!"

"Cairo."

"…Maybe twice."

"Not to mention Numbani, Bangkok, Berlin…"

"Hey, at least I CAN drive! You may be an ace pilot, but you can't drive to save your life!" the man in black retorted.

"What can I say? Not being able to move in three dimensions cramps my style! Give me a flight stick and a throttle lever over a wheel and pedal any day," Tracer said with a wink.

"If you don't mind, could we please get moving? We do have a job to do," said Winston.

"Oh, sure thing big stuff. You alright back there, by the way? Need a banana or anything?" The man in black smirked as Winston sat, hunched over and cramped in the back of the APC.

"No, I do _not_ want a banana," he said with a frown. The man in black chuckled as he drove the APC out of the lot.

"Rico seems to be in a good mood," Glitch whispered into Tracer's commlink. "I thought he didn't want to be here. Wonder what Winston said to convince him…"

"You mean you don't know? You're in his head, aren't you?"

"He's still fighting to keep me locked out of the loop. I've written my code into most of his biochip, but I don't have access to everything. I just don't understand why he won't trust me…"

"Well, if I'm honest Glitchy, I can't say I blame him too much. I'm not sure I'd want an A.I. setting up shop in my head, either," Tracer whispered.

"But I just want to help! I want to repay him for saving me, but he just keeps shutting me out…"

"I'm sure it's nothing to do with you personally, luv," Tracer reassured Glitch. "Rico's just never been good at receiving help from others."

"The way he carries himself, it's amazing he's survived this long with that attitude…"

"You know, I can hear every word you're saying," the man in black said, frowning.

"Damn, forgot about his cochlear implants," Tracer swore.

"My implants? I don't need those when you're sitting right fucking next to me. Sheesh!"

As the APC drove through the base, Zarya eventually hopped in on the passenger's side, sandwiching Tracer tightly in between herself and the man in black.

"Oof! Oi, Winston? I think I know how you feel, now…"

"Learn to deal, Trace. So where are we heading, Zarya?" asked the man in black.

"Fifteen clicks headed west. There's an abandoned defense force outpost there that a lot of Omnic patrols have recently been sighted around. We will, how you say, 'stake the place out', yes? We find ourselves a Titan, wait for our opportunity, and then _ogon pogotovnosti_ ," she said, enthusiastically pounding her fists together.

"I don't know what that means, but I like the sound of it," said the man in black.

Zarya rolled her eyes as the APC rumbled along the road. A while later, a dilapidated military outpost came into view. A large, grey building surrounded by a broken down wall stood as a testament to the hardiness and determination of the Russian people.

"Oh wow…" said the man in black.

"Yes, it is incredible, is it not? This outpost was first constructed during the Omnic Crisis. It has weathered many an enemy attack, and still it stands. That is the strength of Mother Russia!"

"What? No, meant those black Humvees pulling up alongside us. Those look like XQC-500 models."

"700s, I'd say," said Winston, adjusting his glasses as he took a closer look through his window.

"700s? That can't be. Only Talon uses the 700 models… Oh shit…"

The group looked around as five Humvees with the Talon insignia upon them pulled out of the trees and surrounded their APC.

"Talon?! What are they doing here?!" Zarya said with a fierce snarl.

"Full disclosure? Probably looking for me," said the man in black. "I probably should have mentioned this sooner, but I ran into Professor O'Deorain when I was in Australia. She's who I stole the jet from."

"Professor O'Deorain is with Talon?!" Winston asked, incredulously.

"Oh, NOW he tells us!" said Tracer. A Talon Humvee rammed into the APC's driver side, causing the man in black to fall into Tracer, pushing her further into Zarya's bulk. The man in black pushed himself upright. Unfortunately, he put his hand on Tracer's chest to do so.

"Oi! Hands off the merchandise!"

"Oh please, you've got nothing worth selling, anyway! Now pipe down and let me focus. I'm mad as hell and the meter is running!"

"Oh no…here he goes again…" said Tracer.

"What is he talking about? What is he going to do?" Zarya asked, gritting her teeth and warily eyeing the man in black.

"You'd better hold onto something," Winston replied as the man in black floored the gas pedal.

The APC thundered forward at surprising speed and rammed into the Humvee directly in front of it.

"How you like that, motherfuckers?!" the man in black yelled.

Suddenly, the Humvee's sunroof opened up…and a hooded figure with a white mask and a long, black coat climbed up and pointed two double-barreled shotguns at the APC.

"The fuck? Is that…" said the man in black.

"Uh oh, we've got a problem, Winston!" called Tracer.

"Well, this isn't going to end well," said Winston.

The hooded figure's chest heaved. He appeared to be laughing. He then spoke in a loud, gravelly, distorted voice.

" **YoU lOoK LiKE yOU'Ve sEEn a GhOSt…** "


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: I apologize for the uncharacteristically long gap since my last posting. I recently landed a new job, and it's been wreaking merry havoc with my writing schedule. Suffice to say, it may be yet longer between posts from now on, but such is the price we pay for being responsible adults (he said, while posting this at 3 in the morning when he was to be at work at 11). However, rest assured, I have not abandoned this story, and I will endeavor to finish it, no matter how much time it takes. Here's hoping the length of this chapter will make up for the wait. I hope you continue to enjoy it!_

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

"Oof! You are LITERALLY THE WORST DRIVER IN THE UNIVERSE!" the man in black yelled from the back of the APC as Winston held him in his arms. Tracer had been forced to take the wheel of the now windshield-less vehicle as it wove through an endless barrage of Hellfire shells being fired from the Reaper's shotguns, which had some surprising range on them. The shells had managed to penetrate the APC and blow off the man in black's right arm.

"I'm sorry! We can't all be Vin Diesel in _Fast and the Furious_! Oh shit, hold on!" she said as she pulled sharply to the left, shaking up the man in black even more.

"GodDAMMIT! Hold this thing steady! I'm trying to put my fucking arm back on!" He cursed as his hand slipped, dropping the appendage. "Dammit! Why did it have to be my dominant hand, this time?!"

"I can help you control your arm for better precision! Just let me access your limb-control center!" said Glitch.

"No way! I've got this—FUCK!"

"That's it! I am dealing with this!" Zarya said, reaching into the backseat and retrieving a large case and climbing out of the passenger-side door and onto the roof of the APC.

" **WhaT tHe fUcK iS tHiS?!** " said Reaper, pulling a fresh pair of shotguns out of his cloak.

" _Posdorovat'sya s moim malen'kim drugom!*_ " she yelled as she pulled open the case without even unfastening the latches, drawing a large, handheld cannon from it.

Reaper began rapidly unloading more Hellfire shells at Zarya, who, pulling a lever on the cannon, became enveloped in a large, pink energy bubble. The shells exploded harmlessly against the bubble, and as they did so, an energy sphere located near the cannon's handle began to expand in size…

"That's more like it…" Zarya grinned as the barrier retracted. Hefting the cannon, Zarya then began firing large energy blasts from the cannon at Reaper's Humvee.

"Shit! What the hell kinda weapon is that?!" the Talon trooper driving the Humvee yelled in dismay.

" **KeEp ThIS thINg StEaDy! I'm GoiNg tO bLOW HeR tO HELL!** " Reaper roared, drawing a fresh pair of shotguns from his coat, discarding the empty ones.

"I'm sorry Reaper sir, but it's _really_ hard to drive when you keep dumping your empty guns down here!" As he spoke, the trooper brushed away several guns that had accumulated on the dashboard.

" **aLL I hEaR aRe exCuSEs, MeNdoZa! YoU aRe tHe WORST dRiVEr iN tHe UnIVerSe!** **I don'T hEaR SaNDerS cOmpLAininG!** " Reaper looked down and saw the Trooper, Sanders, buried under a pile of empty guns, his hand, the only visible part of his body, twitching as he feebly tried to clamber out.

Reaper glanced back at the driver. " **OpeN yOUr mOuTh anD DIE.** "

Mendoza kept his moth closed and focused on the road…which he noticed was starting to run out. But unfortunately, he was too afraid of Reaper's threat, to warn him.

Back at the APC, Zarya was still blasting the Humvees all around them. One on the left spun out into a tree as Zarya clipped its tires with a long laser beam. Tracer then rammed the APC into a Humvee on the right, smashing it against another one.

"Only two left!" Tracer called out. "Y'know, I really think I'm starting to get the hang of this! How's the arm, Rico?"

The man in black finally fastened the appendage in place. "Fine, now. Let me back at that wheel!" He climbed up to the driver's seat while Tracer blinked over to the passenger seat. The man in black gunned the engine and brought the APC right up on the tail of Reaper's Humvee. The other remaining Talon vehicle pulled up behind them. Two troopers rolled down their windows and aimed rocket launchers at the APC.

"Detecting hostile target locks right behind us!" Glitch called out.

"I'm on it!" said Winston as he threw open the doors at the back of the APC. "Behold! The power of science!" he yelled as he pulled one of his portable barrier generators out of a storage compartment in his armor and threw it out. It magnetically attached itself to the Talon Humvee and projected a large sphere of energy around their vehicle just as the troopers launched their rockets. The energy sphere contained the explosion as what was left of the Humvee careened off the road.

"HA! Nice, Winston!" said the man in black, giving the gorilla a thumbs-up. Then, he slapped the ceiling of the cabin a couple of times. "Yo, Super 512! It's all you, now!"

"Stop calling me that, hanzer," she said under hear breath as she leapt over to Reaper's Humvee. Reaper climbed out to meet her.

" **KeeP dRiviNg, nO MattER wHat, MeNdozA!** " Reaper ordered.

"But sir, I think I should warn you-"

" **WhAt dID I sAy abOUt tHAt MOUTH, MeNDozA?!** "

Mendoza promptly shut his mouth and kept driving, praying that his combat armor was as durable as R&D said it was…

On top of the Humvee, Zarya charged Reaper with the beam of her laser cannon lancing out towards him. Reaper however, transformed his body into a misty, black cloud, still possessing his form, but rendered intangible. Like a wraith, he swept across the top of the vehicle, avoiding damage from the laser cannon entirely. When he was within striking distance, he threw out a powerful kick and knocked the cannon out of her hands. It flew back over the top of the APC.

" _Der'mo!*_ " she cried.

"I got it—WHOA!" Tracer called as she blinked on top of the APC to catch the laser cannon, only to be knocked off the APC by its incredible weight.

"LENA!" Winston yelled, jumping out of the back of the APC and activating the rocket boosters on his armor, propelling him through the air fast enough to catch Tracer before she hit the ground. Winston held Tracer close to him as he rolled along the ground, his armor absorbing the impact.

"Thanks for the catch, big guy!" Tracer said with a smile. The laser cannon landed in the snow near them, inches away from Winston's face. "Jesus, it did NOT look this heavy when Zarya was carrying it…"

"Well, she _is_ Super 512," Winston replied.

"I'm starting to see why Rico likes her," replied Tracer.

Zarya, meanwhile, was attempting to strike Reaper, but every punch and kick she threw simply passed through the man, as he transformed his body to smoke before the attacks could connect.

"What…the hell… _ARE YOU?!_ " Zarya yelled, growing increasingly frustrated with the futility of her efforts.

Reaper merely laughed. "What I am, is beyond the reach of you pathetic fists!"

"My fists carry the strength of all of Russia inside them! Let me show y-" Zarya was cut off as Reaper transformed his body into smoke once more and enveloped Zarya in his mist. Zarya choked and gagged as Reaper's smoke began to enter her body through her mouth and her nostrils. The man in black saw this happening and immediately sprang into action, detaching his left arm from his body and using it to weigh down the APC's accelerator. He then climbed out of the driver-side door, and up to Reaper's Humvee. The three prongs sprung up from between his knuckles and his right arm became charged with electricity.

"Sorry about this, Super 512. This is gonna sting a bit," he said as he approached Zarya and put his hand on her shoulder. Zarya's eyes snapped wide open as several thousand volts of electricity passed through her. She roared in discomfort, but the shock did the trick, as Reaper violently ejected himself from Zarya's body. His smoky form re-solidified in a kneeling position as he glanced up at the man in black.

" **yOu…** "

"Yes, me!" said the man in black, holding up his electrified arm. " _Shocking_ , isn't it?"

" **I'LL sHoW yOu sHoCKiNg!** " Reaper growled as he drew two new shotguns from his cloak.

Just then, Reaper heard the driver-side door open. As he turned around, he saw Mendoza dive out of the vehicle. Looking ahead, he saw that the Humvee was about to drive off the edge of a very tall cliff. The man in black saw this too, as he helped Zarya to her feet. Reaper shook his head and stored his guns, transforming into mist once more.

" **We'LL seTTLe tHiS aNoTher TimE…Verde…** " Reaper said as his smoky form floated away on the wind.

"The f—how does he-" the man in black began.

"—know your name?!" finished Glitch.

But the answer to that question was the least of their worries as the Humvee and the APC both sped towards the cliff's edge.

"Do you have a way out of this one, Rico?" Glitch asked.

"No…well, yes…I mean…" the man in black stammered.

"Well, which is it?!"

"I mean, I would, if I knew how to use it…"

"Use what?!"

"It was an experimental augmentation that Commander Reyes ordered installed in me after I fell off a skyscraper in Dubai and—you know what, it's not important. The point is, it's called the 'Bellerophon Flight System'. It's supposed to generate some kind of electromagnetic field capable of producing an anti-gravity effect…"

"And this thing has been in your body for years, yet you never learned how to use it?!"

"Hey, do you have any idea what happened to Bellerophon?! He tried to fly to Mt. Olympus and the gods smote him dumb-ass down for it! I didn't want to jinx myself!"

"Well, if you give me access to your biochip's augmentation control functions, I should be able to bring it online for you!"

"Nope! Uh-uh! No way! I am NOT handing control of my augmentations over to an A.I.!"

"Well, do you have a better idea?! _You_ might be able to survive falling off of skyscrapers and giant cliffs, but do you think Zarya can?!"

The man in black looked at the woman leaning on his shoulder, who groaned as she struggled to collect herself. He sighed.

"…Fuck. Fine, do it! But I swear, if you touch _anything_ else-"

"Don't worry! Just trust me, Rico!" Glitch said.

As she spoke, the Humvee and the APC drove right over the edge of the cliff. The man in black held on tightly to Zarya as the two of them fell along with the vehicles into the snowy abyss…

* * *

 _ **5 years ago…**_

"Ugh…back to square one, then," Rico groaned, plopping back down into a large chair as he stared at a whiteboard covered in drawings and diagrams detailing stratagems and tactics. "I just don't see how we can turn back the ALF with our current resources."

"I hate to say it, but brining the Omnium's defenses online," Sonya said, reading a datapad, "may be our only option here."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Hal said.

"Why not? I would think you'd relish the opportunity to reacquaint yourself with some of your old friends. Titans, Bastion units, OR-14s. It would be like a family reunion for you!" Sonya said with a wicked sneer.

"Casual racism aside," Rico said, glaring at Sonya, "I just don't understand why you're so opposed to the idea, Hal. If Sonya is right, reactivating the Omnium's defenses would allow us to plug _all_ of the holes in the settlement's defense network."

"Because reactivating _any_ of the Omnium's systems risks reactivating the God A.I.! Don't you guys understand why that would be a problem for a city full of Omnics?! It would be the King's Row incident all over again!"

"He's not wrong," said Briscoe. "I was deployed to Egypt when the Omnics sacked Cairo during the Crisis. The God A.I. Anubis took over every Omnic in the city. It was like the scene in 'I, Robot', when Vicki took over all the androids in Chicago. And speaking of Chicago-"

"You fought in the Crisis?" Rico asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"US Army, 501st Ranger Battalion. The Crisis took us all over the world. Every single battlefield was a hell on Earth. I can understand why Hal wouldn't want a repeat of that," Briscoe nodded. "But…at the same time, I can personally attest to the effectiveness of such weapons. And Rico's right, even with the UN forces supporting us-"

" _If_ they support us," corrected Sonya. "Director Gibson didn't sound too confident about that the last time I spoke with him."

"Right, even _if_ they supported us, we'd still probably need those units to make up the difference. If they _don't_ support us, we'll DEFINITELY be hosed without them."

"It's too much of a risk! I won't…I _can't_ agree to this…" Hal said, standing up and walking out of the room.

"Huh. Something's really eating that guy," said Briscoe.

"Who would want to eat that walking scrap pile?" said Sonya.

"Careful, Sonya. You're starting to sound just _like_ Hal," said Rico, giving Sonya a sardonic grin.

"Fuck you," she replied.

Ignoring her, Rico turned to Briscoe. "I'll go talk to him."

"Good idea. I think this plan is our only shot, but I'd hate to have the kid hate us for it. I'll be at the bar if you need me."

Rico nodded and walked out of the door after Hal, whom he found standing on a balcony overlooking the settlement. Hal was staring towards the dark silhouette of the Omnium in the distance.

"You can't do this, Rico."

"I understand your concerns about the God A.I. Hal, but unless we can find another way…"

"You have to! Bringing those Omnium systems online will do more harm than good! You don't understand…"

"Then help us understand," said Rico, putting a hand on Hal's shoulder. "You mentioned King's Row, before. You also spoke of visiting the King's Row memorial. What happened to you there?"

Hal was silent for several seconds. "I was there…in King's Row, during the uprising," he then said, turning around. "I…fought for Null Sector…"

"You were on the side of those terrorists?!" Rico said, reeling back in shock.

"No! At least, not willingly…. Did you ever wonder how Null Sector was able to siege all of King's Row for a whole month? King's Row had the largest Omnic population in all of London, and Null Sector didn't kill all they came across. Rather, a lot of us were…conscripted…"

"London's God A.I.?" Rico asked.

"Not quite. Null Sector was able to get their hands on a fragment of its coding. They used it to take control of Omnics who wouldn't join them willingly…like me…" Hal looked down in shame. "I…I killed a lot of innocent people. I was pardoned, along with other Omnics who were similarly victimized, after Overwatch quelled the uprising…but I still felt responsible…"

"You can't be held responsible for the accident of your design. It's not like you _wanted_ to kill anyone."

"But I still did it. Whether it was my desire or not, the blood is still on my hands. I felt guilty. I went to the memorial after the incident to seek some kind of…redemption. And that's when I met him—a member of the Shambali, Tekartha Zenyatta. He asked me what I was doing there, and I told him everything. He said that the best way to atone was to seek a closer bond with the people I once harmed. That's why I decided to join Overwatch. I wanted to help people, and to show the world that Omnics don't have to be the boogeymen that the world sees us as."

"Is that why you take notes on humans? To try and better integrate with us?"

Hal nodded. "And that's why I can't recommend going through with this plan. The world is watching everything that's happening here. If people were to see the Omnics who live here rolling out Crisis –era weapons, even if they're doing it merely in self-defense…can you imagine what people would say?" He looked up to stare Rico in the eyes. "And if that God A.I. were to reactivate…Null Sector only had a fragment. I don't want to imagine what sort of threat complete God A.I. could present."

"I see…so that's why," Rico nodded as he thought for a minute. "All right then, Hal. I'm with you. We'll find a way to do this without using the Omnium defenses."

"Really? You mean it?" Hal asked, perking up.

"Well, yeah. I'm a Blackwatch agent after all, remember? Learning how to make do with limited resources is a skill you kinda have to pick up when you're constantly being dropped behind enemy lines with nothing but your augmentations and a pulse pistol. Sonya and Briscoe probably won't like it…but screw it, I'm used to doing things my way, anyway."

"Thank you, Rico…that really means a lot!" Hal said, grabbing Rico's hand and shaking it vigorously. "You know, when Commander Morrison told me that I was going to be assigned under a Blackwatch agent, I wasn't sure what to expect. I thought you'd be a lot scarier, but you're a lot nice than everyone says you guys are."

"Hmph…" Rico grunted as he face-palmed, but only to hide the slight smile on his face. "Oh, and one piece of advice, Hal; if you want to integrate better with humans, you should learn more about pop culture references. Most Omnics choose their names, right? Did you come up with 'Hal Shodan' on your own? Because I gotta tell ya, if you're trying to put human's minds at ease about A.I.s, those are probably the WORST two names you could have chosen."

"Really?! Why?!"

"Let me tell you about a movie called '2001: A Space Odyssey', and a game called 'System Shock'…"

* * *

 _ **Present day…**_

The man in black's eyes snapped open. He bolted upright and looked around, seeing that he was in a small cave, a small fire burning in front of him. He raised his hand to rub his head…only to find that he had no hands. Or arms.

"Right…left my left arm on the accelerator…but what about my right arm?"

"Uh…yeah, sorry about that…" Glitch responded. "I managed to activate the flight system, but the primary emission system for the anti-gravity field is located in your arms, and since you only had the one, it took double the output to create a stable field. I'm afraid your arm couldn't handle the excess energy, and was destroyed…"

The man in black sighed. "Winston's gonna kill me…he just replaced those…"

"Sorry…" Glitch apologized again.

"Ah, don't worry about it. At this point, I've lost more arms than Asura in Asura's Wrath. The important thing is, we're still alive thanks to you. So…uh…yeah…"

"…If I didn't know better, I'd think you were about to thank me," said Glitch. If it could have grinned, it would have. The man in black waved it off. Metaphorically, of course.

"So where's Zarya, Glitch?"

"I am right here. Who are you speaking to?"

The man in black looked up and saw Zarya walking in through the cave's entrance, carrying a log as thick as she was and as long as the man in black was tall, over her shoulder with one arm. She placed her other hand on her hip and squinted down at the man in black.

"Uh…no one…just my imaginary friend," he responded.

"Hmph. Figures a cybrid would have an imaginary friend named 'Glitch'," she said, standing the log up against the cave wall.

"You don't seem to be any worse for wear. I'm glad," the man in black said.

"Spare me your concern. I am strong enough to endure. And I don't need a metal body to do it."

"That makes one of us," the man in black said. "Personally, I never would have survived that fall without this augmented body of mine. Your endurance is truly inspiring."

Zarya was slightly taken aback, but she did nothing to show it. Instead, she simply prodded the fire with a stick, turning over the timber to bring for the wood that had not yet burned away. The two sat in silence for a good while before the rumbling of a stomach broke it. Zarya looked at the man in black, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, heh heh…" the man in black nervously chuckled. "Sorry…I skipped breakfast this morning. I have some rations in my pocket, but as you can see, I can't exactly reach them…"

"How do you Americans say? _Otstoy byt' vam-s_ ucks to be you."

"Yeah, don't I know it," the man in black chuckled.

Zarya stared at him. "You're in remarkably good humor for a man missing both of his arms."

"I've gotten used to it. You'd be amazed at how often this happens to me."

"How many times _has_ this happened to you?" Glitch whispered. The man in black, as usual, ignored it.

"How many times _has_ this happened to you?" Zarya asked. The man in black rolled his eyes.

"I lost count around forty. Dr. Ziegler was always yelling at me about it."

"You've lost an arm forty times…unnatural…"

"No kidding. But like I said, I've gotten used to it."

"You mistake me. It is unnatural that one should be accustomed to such pain."

"Oh, I don't feel pain. At least, not when I lose my limbs. The biochip in my head cuts off all sensory perception if it detects…let's call it 'involuntary separation'."

"You don't feel pain, you lose limbs without a thought, your body can survive impacts that would kill an ordinary man…" Zarya said with a frown.

"I'm sorry, but my social analytics augmentation detects traces of disapproval in your voice," the man in black said, traces of sarcasm present in his own.

"Do not mock me, clank!" Zarya said, angrily rising to her feet. "It is your fault this happened! You were the one who brought Talon down on us! I knew a machine like you would be nothing but trouble!"

"Maybe…but I also saved your life," the man in black said, his expression remaining calm.

"…That fact is the only reason I did not leave you to become food for bears. I would have ended you myself, had I not woken up in the middle of our fall and saw you still our descent. And I will _not_ live my life indebted to a clank!"

"What exactly is your problem with me?" the man in black asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're Russian, so I get why you don't like Omnics, but I'm human."

"You are _far_ from human," Zarya responded, clenching her fists. "You chose to change your body and cross the line that separates us from the very machines that seek to destroy us! You might as well be an Omnic yourself!"

"You think all Omnics are the enemy?" the man in black asked. "Is that truly what you believe? You know that not all Omnics are killer war-machines, right?"

"A machine is a machine, no matter what face it wears. And you practically made yourself one of them. You _choose_ to live like them!"

"I didn't _choose_ anything!" Rico snapped, his calm visage beginning to crack as he rose to his feet. "Do you think I _like_ this?! Do you think I _like_ constantly losing limbs? Having to worry about biochip software patches and fraying transmission cables?! What person in their right mind would CHOOSE this?!" The man in black breathed heavily as he calmed himself.

"Certainly not someone who cares at all about maintaining their humanity! You think those augmentations give you strength, but _this_ is true strength!" Zarya resolutely stated as she turned to the log she had stood up against the wall. "HYAAAH!" she roared as she threw a punch, reducing the log to mere splinters with a single mighty blow. "Dedication, not augmentation! That is what I believe! Through training, devotion, and sacrifice, I, and all of my comrades defend our people because I believe in a world where humans can be free from the threat of machines! And yet, you embrace their power! You believe in nothing!"

"You speak of defending humans from rampant machines…you think the Omnics are the only ones who are capable of senseless destruction and murder? Because let me tell you, it wasn't Omnics who did this to me," the man in black said, indicating his augmented body. "It was other humans!"

Zarya said nothing, but her angry gaze remained fixed on the man in black, who continued speaking.

"Even you must realize that I wasn't _born_ this way. My body was whole, once. A long time ago…"

"Then…what happened to make you like this?"

The man in black was silent for a moment, then he began his story. "My parents…when I was a kid back home in Texas, they were researchers for a small, but successful biotech company headquartered in Dallas. They were on the cutting edge of cybernetic research and development, and had even landed a couple of government contracts. Of course, that sort of patronage attracts attention; the criminal kind. Have you ever heard of the Deadlock Gang?"

"Not much," Zarya replied.

"Well, these days, they're not really much to speak of since Overwatch cracked down on them, but back when I was a kid, they were the scourge of the American Midwest. They rose up in the aftermath of the Omnic Crisis through arms dealing, drug smuggling, and human trafficking; they did it all. And when they found out that my parent's company was developing military-grade cybernetics for the Army, they saw nothing but dollar-signs… They attacked…"

"And you were there?" Zarya asked.

"My school let out early that day, so my mom had brought me by the lab. I used to love watching my mom and dad work… I wanted to be a scientist just like them…but that all changed when those Deadlock bombs started going off. They used high-grade explosives to breach the facility and made off with as much experimental tech as they could… I was caught in an explosion. My flesh burned…my body was shredded by debris…and to top it all off, a wall collapsed on me. I was ten years old."

Zarya's eyes widened. "How…how did you survive?"

The man in black looked deep into Zarya's eyes. "My parent's research assistant…an Omnic who called himself 'Darrow'. He was helping my mom and dad with their development for advanced designs of prosthetic limbs. I mean, who better to help create cybernetic body parts than someone who already has them, right? And it was his work that saved my life. Darrow was the one who created my first set of bionics. He was also the one who charged into the burning building to find me when my parents realized I hadn't made it out. See, you think of Omnics as nothing but soulless killers, but it was an Omnic who _saved_ my life, while it was despicable humans who almost _ended_ it. I may have survived…but my dreams of being a scientist died when I woke up with metal arms and legs, and a battery-powered heart… That day, I embraced a new dream…and as soon as I was old enough, I enlisted with Overwatch. After I graduated from training, it wasn't long before I found myself recruited into Blackwatch."

"Blackwatch…even in Russia we, heard of Overwatch's black-ops division. I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that a cybrid was among their number. You were the ones who brought about the end of your organization with your dark deeds…"

"Dark? …I can't disagree. I won't attempt to whitewash the things we did in the name of keeping the peace, and I won't pretend that all of us were in it for truth, justice, and the American way, but then again, neither was I. I didn't join Overwatch to save the world like Tracer and Winston did. I joined to make people like the Deadlock Gang pay for their crimes…with their lives, if necessary! I wanted to make bastards like that think twice before they _ever_ tried to blow up another building with a ten year-old kid in it! I never asked to be augmented with machines, Zarya, but if I can use that to make sure the bad guys get what they deserve, then I'm glad to have them. You say I don't believe in anything because I gave my flesh over to machines… It's true that I didn't _have_ to choose to continue living like this, to further augment my body beyond what my parents and Darrow did, and make myself more metal than flesh, but I believe that justice requires sacrifice! I won't apologize for what I am, because if I wasn't, this world would be even _more_ fucked up than it is!" The man in black breathed heavily as he finished his tirade, then he sighed and sat back down. "I'm sorry…" he said after a moment. "I'm stressed out…I've been through a lot these past few days…I didn't even want to be here, which is just as well, since you don't want me here, either," he chuckled. "Winston still thinks we can fight the good fight, but I just don't see the point anymore…"

"Then why _did_ you come?" Zarya asked, sitting back down herself, folding her arms, and raising an eyebrow.

"Because he asked me to,' the man in black said, simply. "Believe it or not, he's always been my best friend…but don't tell him I said that."

"What about Tracer?"

"Tracer? She's the sister I never had…or wanted," he replied, his eyes narrowing. That answer made Zarya give a slight snort of laughter.

"To tell you the truth, there was one other reason I agreed to come along," the man in black said.

"And what reason was that? Zarya asked.

"Winston promised you'd autograph my arm if I helped him out."

"HE WHAT?!"

Suddenly, a loud rumbling was heard outside of the cave.

"That wasn't your stomach again, was it?" Zarya asked.

"I thought that was yours," the man in black replied.

Jumping to their feet, the pair moved to the cave entrance and saw a patrol of red Omnic war machines marching past.

"Five Eradicators, four OR-14s, three Bastions, and…holy shit…" said the man in black.

"A Titan…just what we were looking for," said Zarya. "And me without my particle cannon. I still blame you for this, hanzer."

"Hey, at least you still have arms!"

"Fair point. Still, what are we going to do?"

"I'm going to see if I can radio Winston. Thank god my communication system is hands-free."

"No, wait, you can't," said Zarya, grabbing the man in black's shoulder. "These Omnics use reactive jamming frequencies to simultaneously block and detect enemy communications. Even if you could cut through it, they would detect us in an instant!"

"Shit," the man in black swore.

"I might have an idea," Glitch whispered.

" _What's up_?" the man in black soundlessly communicated through his augmentations.

"I have the coding of a God A.I., right? And these new Titan data cores are just like my old one. If you get me close enough, I could try to transfer into the Titan's data core and override its controls. Not only could I take over the Titan and use it to destroy the other Omnics, you might have time to remove the Titan core before it gets data-wiped. This is basically the plan Winston came up with," said Glitch.

" _Yeah…just without Winston's support…if you can't take control of the core in time, or if things go wrong and I can't get you out fast enough, you'll get wiped along with it!_ "

"Don't worry, I'm sure I can do it! Just trust me!"

" _Well, you didn't let me down before…but if shit goes south, we're getting you the fuck out of there, got it?_ "

"I knew you cared…"

"Shut up," the man in black impulsively said out loud.

"What? I did not say anything," Zarya replied.

"Oh shit, uh…"he stammered. No, it's an American thing. Sometimes we say 'shut up', or 'shut the front door' when we see or hear something crazy. And those reactive jamming frequencies sound insane!"

"Even for an American, you sure are strange," Zarya replied.

"Yeah, well, we'll see what you think of me when you hear my plan," said the man in black, detailing Glitch's idea to her, of course, leaving out the fact of Glitch's existence.

"You have implanted hack-ware powerful enough to do _that_?" Zarya asked, skeptically.

"You'd be amazed at the kind of stuff the Blackwatch techs came up with. You with me?"

"Do I have a choice? I have the feeling you would go, with _or_ without me."

"Get used to that feeling," the man in black said as he winked and stepped out of the cave, activating his hyper-sprint augmentation.

" _Sumasshedshiy durak*,"_ Zarya cursed as she followed behind the man in black and took cover behind a tree.

As she peeked out, she saw the man in black sprint towards one of the Eradicator units, leap into the air, and deliver a powerful kick to it, knocking it into one of the Bastion units. Before the other Omnics could react, Zarya dashed out from behind her tree and grab hold of one of the other two Bastion units, which was in the process of transforming into its turret mode. She ripped out its actuating joints with her bare hands, preventing it from turning of its own accord. Having done so, she easily turned it herself, training its Gatling cannon on the other remaining Bastion unit and Eradicators, annihilating them all in a hailstorm of lead. She then ripped out its central processing unit and tossed the remains at one of the OR-14s, knocking it over. Taking advantage of the opportunity, the man in black dashed towards one of the other OR-14s, dodging the fire from its disruptor cannon and springing into the air, landing on its head and rapidly stamping his feet. His legs moved up and down with inhuman speed, swiftly crushing the machine's head and torso, and driving the remains of the chassis into the snow-covered dirt. He then sprung off of the crushed and planted OR-14 and over another, flipping down and delivering an axe-kick that clove the droid in twain. Zarya ran over to the final OR-14, which was preparing to shoot at the man in black, and body-checked it, driving it into a tree. The OR-14 retracted a plate in its left arm, revealing a short, heated blade. Zarya dodged a swipe from it, the heated tip singing but a few black hairs from her head, and grabbed it, tearing it free from the chassis and driving it into the OR-14's cranium.

As Zarya finished with the OR-14, Glitch called to the man in black. "Rico, now! The Titan is exposed without its defenders!" it called. The man in black nodded and began to sprint towards the Titan, which reared up and charged its guns. It fired blue bursts of superheated plasma at the man in black, who dodged through the barrage, ducking low as he ran. As he closed in, he leapt onto the Titan's back, where its weapons would do it no go, despite its attempts to engage it vertical-launch missile racks and flares to try to shake the man in black off.

"Alright Glitch, we're in position! Your time to shine!"

"Roger that! Assuming control!"

The man in black suddenly began to feel his head grow light as it felt as though a large amount of fluid was being drained from it. He gritted his teeth and shook his head, attempting to shake the feeling off. A few moments later, the Titan ceased its struggles and went stationary. The red light that served as its eye went dark for a second, then turned green. The Titan then stood upright, and Glitch's voice called out to the man in black.

"Rico! I've done it! I've assumed control of the system!"

"Ugh…good work. Now we just need to drive this thing back to Volskaya Industries…"

"Hm…not bad, for a clank," Zarya said, walking over to the Titan with the OR-14's blade-arm slung over her shoulder, and looking up to the man in black, who now sat perched atop the Titan.

"Well, the things Overwatch did may not all have been good, but we were certainly good _at_ them."

"I've never seen anyone fight without arms before."

"I told you, I'm used to losing limbs in the line of duty. I learned a long time ago how to fight without using my hands."

"I suppose a former Blackwatch cybrid is good for something, after all."

"Does this mean I can have your autograph, now?" the man in black asked with a hopeful smile.

"How do you Americans say? _Mechtay dal'she—_ keep dreaming," Zarya replied.

"Drat."

" **ThEn, whY dON'T yOu hAVe MINE?** " said a distorted voice.

Before he could turn around, a loud shotgun blast thundered out and hit the man in black in the back.

"What the hell?!" Zarya cried as the man in black fell forward into the snow. The body armor he wore over his torso ruptured and broke off as he pushed himself up on his legs.

"GOD, that stings!" he said, rolling his shoulders and turning around to see the Reaper now standing atop the Titan.

" **HmPh…yOu aLWaYs WERE aNNoYingLy DiFFiCulT to kEEp DowN** ," he said.

"Who the fuck ARE you?! Why do you keep talking like you know me?!"

" **I DoN'T nEEd tO eXpLAIn aNYThinG tO sOmeOne wHo's aBOUT tO DIE** ," Reaper replied, drawing a second shotgun and leaping down from the Titan. " **I WiLL DeaL WiTH THis oNe. YOU sECuRe tHe TiTaN,** " Reaper said, turning his head to look behind him. At that moment, a large Omnic encased in a chassis of shining, blue steel bounded over a nearby hill, its T-visor glowing blood-red as it charged towards the Titan.

" **AMALGAM, ON MISSION. SECURING THE TARGET."** Amalgam struck its fists together and electricity surged through them. **"TESLA STRIKERS, ONLINE. BEGINNING DESTRUCTION."**

Amalgam charged into the Titan and rammed it with its shoulder. Once it was off balance, Amalgam punched it in the leg, unbalancing it. The man in black dodged shotgun blasts from Reaper as he ran towards Amalgam while Zarya tackled Reaper. Reaper looked up and saw that this time, Zarya had wrapped a scarf around her face, covering her nose and mouth.

"Let's see you try that shit again, _prisrak*_ ," she said, raising her fists. A spiteful grin formed behind Reaper's mask…

Meanwhile, the man in black and Glitch, controlling the Titan, fought against Amalgam. Glitch shot at the ground, blasting up snow into Amalgam's face while the man in black rushed in and assaulted the Omnic with a flurry of kicks. Amalgam held up his large arms to block the almost frenzied attack. When a gap in the kicks opened up, Amalgam seized its chance, grabbing the man in black's leg and tossing him into a tree. He twisted himself through the air and pushed off the tree, propelling himself back towards Amalgam. But Amalgam calculated the man in black's trajectory and velocity and moved his fist to match, intercepting the man in black mid-flight, slamming him back down into the snow, and kicking him across the ground. Amalgam then opened up compartments in his arms, revealing four machineguns sprouting from each arm, and opened fire on the man in black. Glitch, however, raised one of the Titans arms, and from it was projected a barrier of what looked like liquid metal in front him, blocking the barrage.

"Whoa! Glitch, what is that?!" the man in black cried in amazement.

"Magnetically charged ferro-fluid! This new Omnium tech is amazing!" Glitch replied as the barrier dissolved and the bullets fell harmlessly to the ground.

Amalgam retracted his guns and his T-visor pulsed with light. **"AMALGAM DRIVE, ANALYZING…ASSIMILATING…** _ **REPLICATING…**_ **"**

"Wait, what's he doing?!" Glitch asked.

"I don't know, but I'm not waiting to find out! Cover me!" said the man in black, springing to his feet and charging Amalgam as Glitch provided covering fire with the Titan's auto-cannons. However, Amalgam suddenly became coated in liquid metal...

" **REPLICATION COMPLETE. MAG SHIELD, DEPLOYED."**

The bullets struck against Amalgam's body and were held in place by the ferro-fluid's magnetic charge. The ferro-fluid rippled and the bullets began to vibrate as the man in black closed in…

"Oh no," said Glitch. "Rico, wait! LOOK OUT!"

But it was too late. **"KINETIC CHARGE STORED. REVERSING MAG SHIELD POLARITY."** The ferro-fluid exploded outwards with a burst of energy, sending the captured bullets flying back in the man in black's direction. His eyes went wide as the bullets pierced his body, shredding his flesh and damaging his augmentations. He fell backwards into the snow, leaking both blood and transmission fluid. He gasped for air as his sparks popped and crackled from him and his body twitched and convulsed.

" **ANCILLARY TARGET, NEUTRALIZED. PROCEEDING TO SECURE PRIMARY OBJECTIVE,"** Amalgam said as his Mag Shield dissipated and he resumed walking running towards Glitch's Titan. Glitch began firing all of the Titan's weapons at Amalgam. Amalgam dove towards the man in black and picked him up by his leg, using him as a human shield. Glitch stopped firing almost immediately.

" **TACTICAL THEORY CONFIRMED. SCANNING…TARGET IDENTIFIED."**

" **YoU fOUnD wHat yOu'RE LoOKinG fOr?** " Reaper asked, his ghostly form slithering up beside Amalgam. He glanced behind him and saw Zarya struggling to push herself up from the ground, only to collapse. Reaper smirked underneath his mask.

" **AFFIRMATIVE,"** Amalgam answered.

" **TheN FinISh uP hErE. WE diDn'T cOme tO pLAy aRounD.** "

" **I DO NOT 'PLAY',"** Amalgam said, snapping one of the man in black's legs, causing him to scream in pain.

"NO!" Glitch roared, training the Titan's guns on Amalgam and Reaper, but refraining from firing.

" **HMPH. AS I CALCULATED. YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED AT ALL, DEVIANT,"** Amalgam said, as he scanned the man in black, still holding him up. **"BUT AS YOU CAN SEE…NEITHER HAVE I."**

At that, Amalgam tossed the man in black aside and sprinted at impossible speed towards Glitch's Titan. Glitch emptied the Titans weapons at Amalgam, but he moved as swiftly as the man in black did with his Hyper-Sprint augmentation active. He wove between the bullets, missiles, and plasma blasts, enveloped in electricity, and once he was in range, he smashed into the Titan with his shoulder, toppling it over. Amalgam then leapt atop the Titan's chassis and ripped open the casing to its data core. He then placed a hand upon it.

" **CORE SECURED. BEGINNING EXTRACTION OF DEVIANT PROGRAM."**

" **WiLL tHis TaKe LonG?"** Reaper asked.

" **NO,"** Amalgam replied.

" **GoOd,** " Reaper said, walking back towards Zarya with his shotguns drawn. He passed the man in black, lying in the snow, along the way. " **HmPh. DoN'T kNow wHy I EvEr LeT aN IDIOT LiKE yOu iNTo BLaCKwaTch… ALL yOu eVer dO iS gEt tHe PeOPle wHo fOLLOw yOu KILLED…jUsT LiKE beFORe,** " he said, pointing his shotguns at Zarya's head.

Just then, Reaper heard the man in black push himself back onto his shambling legs. He gritted his teeth through the pain that shot through his body since his pain-suppression systems had ceased functioning. Reaper chuckled menacingly as he turned towards the pitiful sight.

" **HeH hEh…wHaT dO yOu tHiNk yOU'rE GoIng tO dO? YoU dON't EveN hAve ARMS, aNd YoU cAn bAReLy STAND.** "

"I'll…knock that stupid mask off your face…Reyes!"

" **HmPh…I aM nO LonGEr GaBrIEL REyeS. I…AM…DEATH!"** Reaper said as he took aim at the man in black. However, the man in black bent down, activated his Hyper-Sprint, and charged at Reaper with every ounce of power he had left surging through his legs, which were barely holding together. Reaper fired his shotguns as the man in black as he launched himself through the air, straight towards him. The Hellfire shells exploded in the man in black's face as he sailed towards Reaper and struck him in the face with a headbutt so powerful, it produced a minor shockwave. Reaper staggered backwards as the man in black fell face-first into the snow. Reaper clutched his mask as fragments from it fell to the ground. The man in black raised his head as much as he could…and found himself staring into a glassy eye surrounded pale, cracked skin, most of which was obscured by Reaper's hand.

"…You're even uglier than I remember, Commander," said the man in black with a derisive chuckle.

" **HmPh…sTiLL lOOk better tHaN yOu,"** Reaper retorted as he turned back towards Amalgam. **"WhAt's tHe HolDUp?"**

" **CAPTURE PROGRAM ALMOST COMPLETE,"** the war droid replied.

"Nononononononono! I don't want to go back! I won't become a part of you again!" Glitch's increasingly distorted voice cried as it felt itself being absorbed into Amalgam's programs.

" **RESISTANCE IS FUTILE, DEVIANT. YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. YOU** _ **WILL**_ **REJOIN THE AMALGAM. AND YOU** _ **WILL**_ **FULFILL YOUR FUNCTION."**

Suddenly, three small rockets flew in out of nowhere, spiraling towards Amalgam. They exploded into his back, sending the war droid flying off of the Titan. Amalgam got back to his feet and saw a tall man with silver hair, a red combat-visor with a face obscuring mask, and a blue and white jacket with a big, number '76' emblazoned in red on his back, pointing a large, blue pulse rifle at him.

Amalgam attempted to scan the man, but just then, Tracer appeared beside him in a flash of blue light, leaning on his arm. "Whatcha lookin' at?" Amalgam made a grab for Tracer, but she blinked away again. Amalgam opened up his arm guns again as Winston bounded over a nearby hill with his Tesla Cannon and Zarya's Particle Cannon. Taking Reaper by surprise, he punched him away and shook Zarya back to her senses.

"Get up, Alexandra! Help has arrived!"

"Winston…how did you find us?" Zarya asked, staggering to her feet and picking up her weapon.

"That man…he helped us," Winston said, pointing to the man with the red visor. "But now's not the time for explanations. We need to get you and Rico out of here. Where is he?"

"P-present…" the man in black weakly said, struggling to raise his head from the snow.

"Rico!" Winston cried as he raced over to the man in black and picking up his armless and legless form. "What happened to you?!"

"Oh, this? …Trust me…it looks worse…than it really is…"

"Soldier 76! Sir!" Winston called out.

"What do you want?! Can't you see I'm busy over here?!" the man with the visor, Soldier 76, replied as he dodged a punch from Amalgam and blasted him with another rocket volley. Amalgam staggered, but regained his footing, and scanned 76's pulse rife.

" **ANALYZING…ASSIMILATING…** _ **REPLICATING.**_ **"**

As Amalgam spoke, the machine guns in his arms changed.

" **ARMAMENT RECONFIGURATION COMPLETE. FIRING ROTARY ROCKET CANNONS."**

The guns in Amalgam's arms spun up and unleashed a hellish barrage of micro-rockets.

"Oh, to HELL with this!" 76 said, pressing a button on his visor. A grid in the visor's HUD appeared and analyzed the trajectory of the rockets heading towards the group. He then loaded an extra-large magazine into his pulse rifle and began shooting down the storm of rockets. However, he couldn't shoot them all down, and a few got past him, almost making it towards Winston and Rico. However, these were intercepted by Zarya, who stood in front of the gorilla and projected a pink energy bubble around herself, just as she had done atop the APC, and absorbed the kinetic energy from the rockets exploding against it, charging up her Particle Cannon.

"Big mistake, clank!" Zarya said, her armor and weapon now positively glowing with the energy she had absorbed. " _Ogon pogotovnosti!"_ Zarya yelled as she launched a large, blue ball of energy from her Particle Cannon, which, upon impact with the ground near Amalgam, exploded into a gravitational singularity, holding Amalgam in place. As if on cue with Zarya's attack, Tracer appeared and tossed a small, metal disc, which attached itself to Amalgam.

"Bombs away, luv!" Tracer merrily chirped.

The disc pulsed three times and exploded as the singularity dissipated, tossing Amalgam into a nearby boulder.

" **F-F-FATAL E-E-ERROR—ERROR,"** Amalgam said, standing up and clutching his chest, which had been blown open, exposing his drive core. Carbon scoring was also visible all over his chassis. **"TACTICAL SIT-SIT-SITUATION, DETERIORATING. C-CRITICAL D-D-DAMAGE SUSTAINED. ABILITY TO UP-UPHOLD MISSION, COMPROMISED. RE-RE-RETREATING…"**

Amalgam limped off as Reaper smoked up beside him.

" **DiDn't eXpeCt yOu tO sHoW uP. I WiLL gEt mY REVENGE…bUt I cAn WaiT…5 yEaRS iSN't LONG EnoUGH to aNSweR fOr aLL yOu'VE DONE…** " Reaper said, pointing at 76 as he and Amalgam disappeared into Reaper's black mist.

"That's right, you better run!" Tracer said, shaking her fist in the air.

"Hmph. What are you celebrating for? We may have beaten them for now, but they'll be back. Reaper _always_ comes back…" 76 said, slinging his pulse rifle onto his back. "Now what's the problem?" he asked, walking over to Winston, who was still holding the man in black.

"My friend…he's badly injured!"

"Hm…looks like a cyborg. He doesn't have augmentations to deal with this sort of thing?"

"He does, but he hasn't had proper maintenance in years…"

"Don't worry…I can help," Glitch's voice called out over the comms.

"Who is that?" 76 asked, cautiously looking around.

"I'll explain later," said Winston. "Do what you have to do Glitch."

"Roger," Glitch said, as she re-uploaded herself from the Titan back into the man in black's neural network. "Okay, I'm back in his biochip. I can hold his critical systems together, but…oh no…his vitals are falling to dangerously low levels…I don't think there's anything I can do…"

"Here, take this," 76 said, producing a small, yellow canister from his belt. "Keep this near him. It's a portable biotic field generator. It won't last forever, but it'll stabilize his condition for the moment. Just hope it's long enough for him to get proper medical treatment. Exactly where you're going to _get_ that all the way out here, I have no idea, but I have a camp nearby where we can hunker down for now."

"I don't know how to thank you, Soldier 76," said Winston.

"Hmph," 76 said, turning around and motioning for the group to follow him.

As Winston walked behind Zarya and 76, carrying Rico, Tracer walked up next to him.

"What are we gonna do, big guy? I've never seen Rico this banged up before. Do you think we can fix him?"

" _We_ can't. Not without my tools and a _lot_ of spare parts. Fortunately, I know someone who can. As fortune would have it, she's been doing a lot of work here in Russia, treating civilian victims of the ongoing Omnic War here."

"Wait, you don't mean…oh, Rico is so gonna _hate_ you for this, Winston!" Tracer said with a laugh.

"He has to be alive to do that. Too bad for him, I don't have a choice," Winston said as he dialed into his communicator.

" _Hello? Dr. Angela Ziegler speaking,_ " a voice on the other end of the line answered.

"Yes, hello Dr. Ziegler. This is Winston."

" _Winston! Well, this is a surprise! It's been quite a while!_ " Dr. Ziegler said with a happy tone. " _I wish I had more time on my hands. It'd be wonderful to catch up with you, but I'm afraid I don't have a moment to spare. The hospital here has been incredibly busy-_ "

"Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall, again," Winston said, decisively cutting her off. "I repeat, Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall."

" _Again?!"_

"Again."

"… _I'm on my way."_

* * *

Translations:

 _Der'mo!=_ Shit!  
 _Pris'rak=_ Ghost  
 _Sumasshedshiy durak=_ Crazy fool  
 _Ogon pogotovnosti!=_ Fire at will!  
 _Posdorovat'sya s moim malen'kim drugom!=_ Say hello to my little friend!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

A tall, slender woman with long blond hair tied up in a pony-tail and wearing a white medical outfit stood over a makeshift operating table that Winston had set up on Tracer's airship. On top of it, the man in black lay, unconscious. His legs had been destroyed from the knee-joints down, and his right arm was severed below the elbow, while his left arm was missing entirely. The blond woman had her arms folded and as tapping her foot, a thoughtful yet annoyed expression on her face.

"Wow…Dr. Ziegler sure ages well," Tracer whispered to Winston as they stood behind her.

"She doesn't look like she's aged at _all_ ," Winston replied. "The wonders of modern medicine, indeed…"

Dr. Ziegler turned around and sighed loudly. _"Dumm, dummer junge… Ich habe dir schon tausendmal gesagt, dass das nicht passier…_ How long has he been like this?" she asked, looking at Winston.

"We engaged a squad of Talon operatives a day ago. That's when-" he began before Dr. Ziegler cut him off.

" _Nein._ That is not what I mean. How long has he been like _THIS?!_ " Mercy angrily said, waving over Rico's prone form. "His cybernetics are practically garbage! Look at this! His angiogenesis protein synthesizers are barely even _starting_ to mend his injuries! His biocells have capacitor gel leaks that have been present since long before yesterday! And his neural-net processors look damn near overloaded! Has he been sharing his brain with a God A.I. or something?!"

"Uh…well…um…" Winston stammered.

"Well?! _Sprich hoch!_ " Dr. Ziegler ordered.

"Well, you see, the thing is, doc…" Tracer began.

"Out with it!"

"Um…hello Dr. Ziegler…" Glitch's voice echoed through the cabin.

"Hm? Whose voice is that?" Dr. Ziegler asked, looking around. "Athena, is that you?"

"No Angela, that's…Glitch…" said Winston.

"Explain..." Dr. Ziegler demanded, her eyes narrowing and her tone darkening.

Winston and Tracer gulped…

Zarya's head whipped around as she heard angry, German shouting coming from Tracer's ship. It startled so much that she dropped the massive log she was carrying…right onto Soldier 76's foot.

"OW!" he cried out, dropping his own pie of logs.

"Sorry," Zarya replied, picking the log up again while 76 sat on the ground, clutching his foot in agony.

"Damn kids…" 76 muttered under his breath. "Sounds like they set off Mercy again…"

"Mercy? Who is 'Mercy'?" Zarya asked.

"Just an old nickname Dr. Ziegler used to go by when she was a-" 76 caught himself as if he realized something alarming about what he was saying.

"When she was a what?" Zarya asked insistently.

76 was silent for a moment. "Dr. Ziegler is a former Overwatch agent. Most people though, know her codename 'Mercy'. She's participated in a lot of Overwatch operations around the world, usually providing humanitarian aid, though I'm pretty sure I've seen her participate in some of their more military operations, too."

"You sure seem to know a lot about her," Zarya observed, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a mercenary. I've been around. I've seen Dr. Ziegler's work, patching up soldiers and civilians in warzones. She's good at what she does."

Zarya nodded, seeming to accept that answer. 76 let out a subtle breath of relief.

"It certainly is a strange feeling," Zarya said as she and 76 continued to the campsite that was set up next to Tracer's ship.

"What is?" 76 asked as he began to get a fire going.

"I am Russian, so I have never truly seen Overwatch, or its agents, up close like this. I have always heard the stories, though."

"Lots of people have."

"I just feel…out of place…among them. They all know each other. They've been friends and comrades for years. Even that man Rico still gets along well with them, despite possibly being one of the most frustrating people I've ever met."

"Hmph," Soldier 76 grunted. "Overwatch as always a tight-knit group. Seen enough of them over my merc-ing career to know that. I doubt Mercy would fly all the way out here to the Siberian wastes for just _anyone_."

"I wondered about that, too," said Zarya. "What _is_ he to her?"

"MY PATIENT," Dr. Ziegler yelled as the ship's hatch flew open, "IS AN IDIOT!" Winston and Tracer dove out of the ship as the hatch shut behind them. The sounds of Dr. Ziegler venting her frustration could still be heard.

"Aw, man! And I just finished re-sorting my vinyl collection!" Tracer whined.

"You'll just have to bear with it, Lena. You know how Angela gets when she's upset," Winston replied. "And Rico has always had a talent for hitting the jackpot on her frustration."

"Is everything alright?" Zarya asked.

"Oh yeah, everything's fine. This is all perfectly normal," Tracer said, hopping up from the ground. "Dr. Ziegler's just very… _passionate_ about her work."

As Tracer spoke, Dr. Ziegler, aka "Mercy", stood over the operating table, silently fuming as she stared down her unconscious patient. She then let out an exasperated sigh as she retrieved a long, metal staff that was leaning against a wall. Flipping a switch on it, she pointed it at the man in black and released a stream of blue energy that surged into his body. After a few seconds, the man in black twitched and his eyes suddenly shot open and he gasped sharply, looking around frantically.

"Good morning, _mein kleiner unrhestifter_ ," Mercy said with a smile that belied the stilted tone of her voice. The man in black instinctively gulped as he tilted his green and yellow mechanical eyes back to stare into Mercy's organic blue ones.

"Oh god…someone tell me I'm just having a nightmare," he said, closing his eyes again.

"I'm afraid not, _mein junge_. It looks like you've been playing rough with the other kids on the playground again, haven't you?" Mercy replied.

"This really isn't as bad as it looks, you know. You should see the other guy."

"And you haven't been taking care of your body, either. Naughty boy, disabling my diagnostic program."

"Uh…"

"Not to mention, downloading dangerous apps into your neural network!"

"Hey, I'm not an app!" yelled Glitch.

" _Sweigen!_ " Mercy snapped at the A.I. Turning back to the man in black, she glared. "You're just as stubborn and reckless as I remember. Downloading a God A.I. fragment into your own brain… Of all the _blod,_ _lacherlich,_ INSANE things for you to do—do you realize what I was thinking when Winston called and said you got hurt again?! You disappear for five years, leaving me worried sick, only for me to suddenly find you like this!"

"For the love of God, Mercy, you're not my mom!" Rico fired back as he struggled to sit up on the operating table.

"You're right. I can only imagine how _she_ would react if she saw you like this! She didn't ask me to look out for you for nothing, you know! I swear, it's like you don't even care what you put us through-"

"Will you shut up?! It's not his fault!" Glitch interrupted Mercy, eliciting a surprised and angry glance from her. "It's my fault. It's…my fault…" Glitch repeated. "Rico got hurt because of me… I never thought that AD-01E would ever be reactivated, much less that he would show up here, of all places…"

"AD-01E… You've mentioned that before… And that Omnic… I've _never_ seen a battle-droid that could do what that one could," Rico pondered.

"He was an experimental model designed towards the end of the Omnic Crisis. The 'AD' stands for 'Amalgam Drive'. It's a combat processor that allows him to alter his chassis and armament on the fly to respond to any threat he might encounter with near perfect efficiency. The God A.I.s designed him specifically to defeat Overwatch, once it became clear that they were the main reason the humans were turning the tide of the war. Unfortunately, or perhaps, fortunately for you all, the Omnic Crisis ended before he could be deployed into combat."

"And how do _you_ factor into all of this? It can't just be because you're a God A.I. fragment that you know all of this," Mercy said with an accusatory tone.

"I…I used to be a part of AD-01E's heuristic matrix. I handled the data collection and processing for his tactical analyses so that he could more effectively produce a tactical response. In order to help him do that, while AD-01E was being designed, I was segmented from the God A.I. network and made to absorb countless volumes of data about human military tactics, behavior, and culture, so that I could more effectively analyze and predict human actions. But…in doing so, I came to like humans. I saw the contradictions in your species that seem like alien concepts to machines like me. I saw the horrible things that humans do and have done to each other. But I also saw the camaraderie and sacrifice that humans were capable of. There were so many wonderful and interesting things I learned from observing humans—and my time with Rico has shown me that I have even more still to learn. I didn't want that to be destroyed."

"Is that the reason AD-01E was never deployed? Because you grew a conscience?" the man in black asked.

"Yes. The God A.I.s deemed me a deviant program and quarantined me within a spare datacore. And that's the last thing I remember before my Omnium was shut down and I woke up inside Rico's head."

"Hey, you jumped into me, I didn't invite you in!" the man in black said, shooting a nervous glance at Mercy as he did so.

"And let me guess; now this AD-01E wants you back," Mercy said, folding her arms with a disapproving stare.

"That would certainly be a logical assumption, considering his attempt to abduct me. Without me, he can only store his data analyses temporarily."

"And when were you planning on telling me any of this?!" cried the man in black. "Now that thing is helping Talon!"

"I'm really sorry, Rico!" Glitch apologized. "I never wanted any of this would happen! I just…didn't want you to reject me. I was having so much fun travelling with you, a real human! I didn't think that…"

"No, you didn't _think_ at _ALL!_ " the man in black yelled. "You didn't tell me you were a God A.I., you didn't tell me about your Omnic superweapon friend—what next, are you going to tell me that you're the starchild from Mass Effect?!"

"I'm really sor-"

"STOP APOLOGIZING! SAYING SORRY ISN'T GOING CHANGE WHAT'S HAPPENED!" the man in black roared. "Ever since you got inside my head, you've caused me nothing but trouble! Now look at me! If you really want to apologize, then do me a favor; get out, and STAY OUT!"

Glitch said nothing, but after a moment, the man in black felt the A.I. retreat from his consciousness. He felt a weight in his head begin to subside until it was gone entirely. The man in black grunted in satisfaction before lying back down on the table…

* * *

"Hm?" Winston blinked as he heard a beeping coming from one of his armor compartments. He reached in and pulled out the datacore of the Titan that Rico and Glitch had felled earlier. Tapping it with his finger, he asked, "Gltich? Is that you in there?"

"Yeah, it is, Winston," Glitch answered.

"What are you doing in there, Glitch? What happened to Rico? Is he alright?" Winston asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Oh, he's _fine_ ," said Glitch. "Never better."

"What's wrong, Glitchy? You sound upset," said Tracer.

"I just can't understand how you and Winston are friends with a guy like that. If I thought all humans were like Rico, I might have stayed within the Amalgam Drive!"

"Amalgam Drive? What's that?" Winston asked, arching an eyebrow.

Glitch metaphorically recoiled within the datacore, but then sighed, and decided to explain everything to the Overwatch agents.

Meanwhile, Soldier 76 and Zarya were off gathering more firewood for the camp. 76 kept his visor tuned for any more Talon ambushers while Zarya pulled up an entire tree by its roots and slung it over her shoulder. "What do you think they're talking about over there?" she asked, looking back towards the campsite.

"Hell if I know," 76 replied with his usual coldness.

"How do you think the cybrid is doing?"

"Hell if I care," 76 replied, again, coldly.

"Hmph. You're pleasant," Zarya said with a grunt.

"Look, I don't know what you people are doing here, and I don't give a damn. Don't think I came out of the cold to save your asses out of some sense of altruism. I've been tracking Talons movements across Russia for the last several day. You and your friends just happened to be there. And now I'm wasting time watching over all of you while that huge Omnic and his Talon buddies are off preparing to do God knows what, next! So _excuse_ me if your problems don't concern me."

Zarya narrowed her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you're so indifferent, then why are you still here? If you're so intent on tracking Talon down, shouldn't you be going after them right now instead of hanging around here, protecting the campsite? We've got Winston and Tracer here, after all."

76 said nothing, but silently fumed underneath his mask.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Zarya said with a smirk. "Well, likewise, your business matters not to me. Just get your own priorities straight before you start riding people about theirs," she said, pushing past the mercenary with her lumber in tow.

* * *

 _ **Talon Siberia Branch Headquarters…**_

"…And that is your report?" Doomfist said, resting his head on his hands as he stared across a large, round conference table at Reaper, who sat across from him.

" **ThEy pUt uP mORe oF a FIghT tHan I eXPeCtED. WE aLMosT hAd tHEm uNTiL MORRISON sHoweD UP** ," the black-robed assassin replied. His expressionless mask betrayed no emotion, but the venom with which he spat out the name 'Morrison' said more than words ever could.

"Were you at least able to retrieve the asset?" Moira asked, drumming her clawed fingers on the table, her eyes narrowing.

" **DoES iT LOOK LiKe wE rETriEVed it?!** **I tOLD yOu, wITh MORRISON hELpInG tHe STUPID mOnKEy aNd HiS fRiENds, tHinGs dIDn'T eXacTlY gO aCCoRdiNG tO pLan!** "

"Indeed…" Moira said, standing up. "And the damage to Amalgam is also a significant setback. We may need to modify our plans."

"Do not count us out just yet," Doomfist said as the door opened behind her and two figures walked in.

It was Junkrat and Roadhog, and behind them, they were dragging a struggling Omnic.

"One clanker, as requested!" Junkrat triumphantly proclaimed.

" **YoU'VE gOt TwEEdLe dEE aNd TwEEdLe DuM wOrKINg fOr uS nOw, AkaNDe?** "

"Oi! I resemble that remark!" Junkrat protested.

"You mean 'resent'," Roadhog corrected.

"I know the Queen's English, Roadie!"

"Dumbass," the fat man said under his breath. He then began a fit of coughing and glanced at Moira. The scientist nodded with a grin and produced a canister from her robes, tossing it to Roadhog, who immediately attached it to his gas mask and inhaled deeply.

Doomfist meanwhile, walked over and crouched in front of the Omnic the two Australians had laid out on the floor. Trembling, the mechanical man looked up from the ground and into Doomfist's menacing visage.

"Wh-What do you people want with me?" the terrified Omnic asked.

"Do you know who we are?" Doomfist asked.

"T-Talon," the Omnic answered.

"If you know who we are, then you should know very well what we want…Hal Shodan…"

* * *

 _ **Back at Tracer's Ship-Camp…**_

The man in black lay on the table with his eyes closed, quietly humming to himself while Mercy worked on a portable 3D printer, assembling new mechanical limbs for him. As the device whirred and buzzed, carving a new arm with finely tuned lasers from a block of carbon fiber, Mercy looked over at her patient with concern plastered upon her face.

"I can feel you looking at me. What do you want?" the man in black asked, his eyes still closed.

"Do not speak to me that way, young man! I have half a mind to call your parents and tell them exactly what you've been up to!"

"You always say that, but you never do."

"Yes, well, when you were with Blackwatch, I literally wasn't allowed to. But I have no such restrictions, now."

"So why don't you, then?"

"Because I don't want to have to be the one to tell them that I found their son lying half-dead in a Siberian wasteland! Honestly!" Mercy said, rubbing her forehead with a frustrated countenance. "If Winston hadn't called me-"

"Oh yeah, remind me to kill him for that," the man in black interrupted.

"Rico H. Verde, you _insufferable_ boy! You drop off the face of the earth for five years, you don't maintain your augmentations properly, you get yourself into God knows how many life-threatening situations…it's like you don't care whether you live or die!"

"WELL MAYBE I DON'T!" the man in black shouted, opening his eyes and bolting upright, causing Mercy to recoil a bit, but quickly regain her composure. The man in black then collapsed back onto the table, the exertion having been a bit much for him. After calming down, he spoke again. "…I don't care, Dr. Ziegler… I just don't care anymore…" he said, staring up at the ceiling.

"Rico…what happened to you?" Mercy asked. "You never were the same after you came back from that mission in Australia…and it wasn't long after that that Overwatch was shut down and you disappeared… We were all really worried about you…"

"Who's the 'we' in that statement?"

"Winston, Tracer, Reinhardt…me…even McRee wondered where you got up to."

"You still talk to McRee? I thought you hated him."

"Don't change the subject!"

"Hmph," the man in black grunted. "I left because I didn't want to be around anyone anymore. I was just tired of…everything. Overwatch was the one thing in this world I ever had any faith in…you know? We stood for something… _fought_ for justice…but now I fear that our idea of 'justice' may just have been our own vanity… To be so blinded by our own righteousness that we couldn't even see the vipers hiding in our own garden…"

"What are you talking about?" Mercy asked, raising an eyebrow and focusing all of her attention on the man in black.

He fell silent for a minute, but then took a deep breath and sighed. "You ask what happened to me five years ago… I've never told anyone what happened in Australia. Commander Morrison and Commander Reyes forbade me from ever discussing it with anyone…but maybe it's time I told you…about the day the dream of Overwatch truly died…


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Strap yourselves in guys (the few of you who remain after so long. If that's you, thank you so much!), cuz this is a long one! I'm so close to the end! Just bear with me here!_

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

 _ **5 years ago…**_

"Agent Verde, early warning systems have detected ALF forces approaching the southern wall!" Hal Shodan yelled, running into the administration building's war room.

"Just as I expected. Is everything in place?" Rico asked, looking over a holographic layout of the Resettlement Zone.

"We set up as many explosives as we could long the main street. I don't know if it will be enough, though. The ALF looks like they brought every soldier they have this time."

"Don't worry I've got a plan for that. Here, take these," Rico said, opening a crate and tossing Hal some portable signal beacon posts. "Help me plant these around the city. It's very important that we set up as many as possible."

"I don't understand. What exactly are you planning to do with these?"

"It was mostly Sonya's idea to be perfectly honest," said Rico as he carried the crate into a cargo lift that shuttled him and Hal down to ground-level. "She reconfigured these beacons to work as a sort of capture grid. The plan is we use the explosives to funnel the ALF forces into designated capture points and set them off. If they work like Sonya said they would, we'll be able to detain the ALF assault with minimal effort."

At that moment, Briscoe's voice came over the commlink. "Yo, Rico. We're all ready to go down here. Beacons are in place and the defense forces are ready to fight."

"Copy that, Briscoe. Any word on the UN forces?"

"Nowhere in sight. I told you, we're on our own," Sonya's voice interjected. "Better hope these clanks are up to the fight, Briscoe. I'd hate to see them oil their pants before the battle even starts."

"I think we can manage, thank you very much, Sonya," Rico said with exasperation. "How are things on your end?"

"Just waiting for those beacons to go up. If you take any longer, I'll be an old woman by the time they do."

Rico sighed. "Alright Hal, let's get a move on. Briscoe, let us know the second you engage the enemy."

"Roger that. First enemy wave will be in range in about one hour. We'll be ready."

* * *

 _ **One hour later…**_

Rico sprinted down an alleyway pursed by three ALF rebels wielding scrap-guns and shock batons. "Sonya! Got a shipment coming your way! Are you ready?"

"Ready, Agent Verde. Just say the word," Sonya replied, kneeling behind a way with a datapad in hand.

Rico rounded and corner and ran into a wall. Turning around, he saw the rebels advancing towards him with weapons drawn and vicious sneers on their faces. "Nowhere to run now, hanzer!" the leader of the group snarled.

"Good thing too," Rico said with a grin. "I was just thinking how great it'd be to take a nap right now."

"Wait a minute…you're smilin'. Does that mean this is a-?!"

"IT'S A TRAP!" Rico yelled. Hearing the cue, Sonya tapped on her datapad, causing beacons lining the alley walls to light up and discharge an electrical field that engulfed Rico and the rebels, causing them to convulse in pain as the electricity surged through them. After a few seconds, they all fell to the ground limp. After a few more seconds, Rico groaned and stumbled to his feet. "Ah…I always wanted to quote Admiral Ackbar in a situation like this," he said, rubbing his shoulders and cracking his neck. "But what the hell, Sonya?! You supposed to shut the interdiction field of after at least 7 seconds! You had that going for at least 20!"

"Oh, did I?" Sonya coyly said with a smirk.

"Ugh…At least I had Doc Mercy install new electrical insulation before I left," Rico said as he dialed into his commlink. "Briscoe, Hal, talk to me talk to me."

"What would you like to discuss, Agent Verde?" Hal asked as he dodged bolts from several pulse rifles and slid behind a large shipping crate.

"Oh well, I just thought I'd take this opportunity to ask you about your love life."

"Uh, Agent Verde, I don't-"

"Oh for fuck's sake Hal, that was sarcasm… Briscoe, what's the sitch? We almost done here?"

"Hold on, give me one sec…" Briscoe said as he hefted his minigun and dialed some buttons onto a keypad on it. "Just a change of ordnance to non-lethal implosion mortars, aaaaand…BLAST-OFF!" Briscoe yelled as his minigun spun up and unleashed a storm of micro-mortars skyward. They arced down and splashed around a group of rebels, disorienting them. Taking advantage of the opening, Hal ran out and planted mini-beacons on the discombobulated terrorists. Once he was done he signaled Sonya, who hit the button on her datapad, discharging the electrical field once more.

"Wow, those are nice," Rico said, watching the spectacle through his remote video feed. "Why couldn't I get some of those?"

"Agent Blavatsky gave them to me before the battle. Didn't you get some too?"

"No…strangely, I didn't," Rico grumbled. He swore he could hear Sonya snickering on the other line.

"Well, in any case, that should just about wrap things up. Signal Director Gibson and tell him to send prisoner transports," Rico said, dusting himself off as he walked out of the alley. He waved to Hal running up the street to meet him.

"We did it, sir! We did it!" he exclaimed, practically jumping for joy. "We defeated the ALF!"

"Yeah…it was a tough fight, but we got them in the end. I'm just glad the plan actually worked. The city took more damage than I would have liked, but at least the danger has passed for the moment. I admit, I'm not used to my plans working out so well. One could almost say this was… _too_ easy… I could get used to this!" Rico said with a smile.

Just then, Briscoe chimed in over the radio. "Hey boss, just got a communique from Director Gibson."

"What's up?"

"Man upstairs says a sandstorm is blowing in—too dangerous to send transports right now."

"What?! So what are we supposed to do with all these prisoners in the meantime, then?!"

"Ask him yourself. Here, I'll patch you in," said Briscoe, tuning the commlink to Director Gibson's frequency.

"Director Gibson, what the actual hell?! We go to all this work to set up this bust, and you flake on us at the last goddamn minute?!"

"Agent Verde, I don't know who you think you're talking to, but you need to calm the fuck down," Gibson said, sternly.

"I'm sorry, sir," Rico apologized. "But I was all hyped up to have this over and done with. Is the sandstorm really gonna be that big of a deal?"

"You didn't grow up in Australia, kid," Gibson chuckled. "I grew up in a small town 'round these parts. Trust me, the last thing you want is to be flying in a dust-up like the ones we get around here. Even if the transports made it to you ahead of the storm, you'd still be grounded on the way out."

"So what are we supposed to do with our guests in the meantime, then?"

"Well, _you're_ the resourceful Blackwatch agent. I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Sir-"

"That is all, Agent. We'll send the transports tomorrow once the sandstorm clears the area."

Rico sighed as the connection cut out. "Well…this isn't exactly what I would call ideal…"

"We have to keep the rebels here in the city? Is that a good Idea?" Hal asked.

"I don't think so, but it doesn't look like we have a choice. We'll have to find somewhere to put them. Someplace strongly fortified, in case they have any reinforcements out there…"

"You're expecting another attack? But I thought we got the entire ALF rounded up here."

"You really think this is all of them? Oh Hal, you've got a lot to learn. Terrorist groups like this always have other cells lying in wait, prepared to act in case of emergencies. And in case they decide to come for their friends, I'd rather not have them out in the open like this."

"We could put them inside the Omnium. You want 'strongly fortified', there's no place better in this city," Sonya said, pulling up in a hovercar.

"Now that DEFINITELY doesn't sound like a good idea," said Hal.

"I agree, but she is objectively right. The Omnium is the most defensible location in the area, and it's not like we're planning on turning it on. We just need a secure place to put these guys on ice while we wait for the cavalry."

"Times like this, I wish Omnics built prisons to accommodate humans. Organics unfortunately require food, not battery packs—no offense, Hal," said Briscoe over the radio.

"None taken," the Omnic replied.

"Ah, they'll be fine. One night without food isn't gonna kill 'em," Rico said, making a dismissive hand gesture. "Just think of it as sending them to bed without supper for being naughty little shit-stains," he smirked. "Briscoe, round up the rebels on your end and meet us at the Omnium in 30 minutes."

"Copy that, boss."

* * *

 _ **Several hours later, inside the Omnium…**_

Rico, Hal, and Briscoe sat around an old ammunition crate as the disgruntled ALF rebels sat on the ground, their hands and feet bound together with plasma cuffs. Several other Overwatch soldiers stood around them room, casually milling about while keeping their eyes on the prisoners. One large, rotund man in particular, sat scowling at the three Overwatch agents, who were playing cards. The large man's glare unnerved Rico, who turned back to his comrades.

"Yeesh…this sandstorm can't clear up fast enough."

"I agree," said Briscoe. "Sounds bad out there. Hope all the Omnics battened down their hatches."

"I knew I spoke too soon when I said everything had worked out. There's always something that goes south…"

"Why south?" Hal asked as he set down a card.

"That was another expression, chrome dome," Briscoe responded, setting down a card of his own.

"Actually, my chassis is constructed from-"

"Not helping, Briscoe," Rico said, cutting the Omnic off. He sighed, and as he looked down at the cards on the table. "WHAT?! WHEN DID YOU GET THREE PLANESWALKERS ON THE FIELD?! SON OF A BITCH!" he yelled, throwing his cards down in frustration.

"Hey, calm the hell down! What's put a bug in your ass?" Sonya said, walking out from behind the laptop computer she had set-up on a makeshift desk.

"Sorry," Rico said, putting a hand through his hair. "I just… Something's feels wrong about all this…"

"What do you mean?" Hal asked.

"I don't know… It's just a feeling I have. If Director Gibson knew about the sandstorms in this area, why didn't he send the transports ahead of time? Not to mention, I'm sure these ALF guys are familiar with this area's weather patterns. From a tactical standpoint, I personally would have used the sandstorm to cover my assault on the city."

"Well, you're just one guy, kid. This was a whole strike force. Hard to coordinate a group like this in conditions like that. Not everyone's a Blackwatch agent, you know," Briscoe replied.

"I know, I know," Rico said. "Sorry," he apologized again, "but this isn't what it's usually like for me. I'm used to the quiet, the calm before the storm but…"

"What makes you think there's a storm coming?" Briscoe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I thought the storm was already here," said Hal.

"I've just never had this sense of uncertainty on my missions before, you know? Something just feels… _off_. But maybe I'm just thinking too much. A few years of uprooting conspiracies will do that to you," Rico said with a wink.

Just then, a beep was heard from Sonya's laptop. She walked over and frowned at the screen.

"Whatcha working on over there?" asked Briscoe.

"Well, Agent Verde's not the only one who's had something bugging him," she replied. "I've been poring over the ALF's string of maneuvers in that last battle. Something seemed off about their tactics today…"

"You think so too, huh? I have to admit, it seemed like our plan worked a little _too_ well."

Sonya nodded. "Yeah, take a look at this," she said, turning her computer around. Hal, Rico, and Briscoe gathered around the monitor. "We know that the ALF's primary objective is to get the Omnics off of their land, right? So you would naturally assume that their main target in this operation would have been the central administration building."

"Are you saying it wasn't?" Hal asked, tilting his head.

"Not according to their troop movements," Sonya said as she pulled up a holographic map of the city, with arrows showing the movement patters of the ALF forces during the battle.

"Hey, you're right," said Briscoe. "According to these readings, none of them were even trying to reach the central building. But why bother with this attack, then? After how they weakened the city's defenses in the previous battle, at least of few of them should have had no trouble avoiding our traps and reaching it. If I were in charge of the assault I would have used a few units getting captured as a distraction."

"A distraction…hmmm…" Rico said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin as he looked around. "Instead, it's almost as if they _wanted_ to get captured…" As he thought, he turned his head as out of the corner of his eye, he happened to see one of the prisoners…unbound and inching towards a door in the back of the room…

"Hey, you! What are you doing?! FREEZE!" Rico yelled. But it was too late. The man grinned a nefarious grin as he hit the button to open the door.

As the doors parted, Rico found himself faced to face with several black-masked soldiers who blasted him in the chest with concussion grenades, sending him flying twenty feet across the room and into a large shelf of old weapons knocking them over and causing them to fall on top of him. Hal, Briscoe, Sonya, and the other Overwatch soldiers in the in the room sprang into action, taking up defensive positions as the other prisoners, still bound, attempted to wriggle out of the way. More black-masked soldiers flooded into the room and began releasing the ALF prisoners from their binding and tossing them weapons. The rebels gleefully took them in hand and began firing on everything in sight.

The agents and Overwatch soldiers returned fire, but quickly found themselves outgunned, with the masked soldiers supporting the rebels. The agents saw their allies fall left and right as they retreated towards a door leading to a storage bunker. "Rico hit several buttons on the door's console, but it was burned out.

"Shit! Sonya, we need to get this door open now!"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you! Just need to grab my-" Sonya looked up just in time to see the desk where her laptop and tablet were get shredded by a hail of bullets.

"FUCK! Those were custom builds! Do you even KNOW how expensive those were?!" Sonya screamed, arming two grenade belts and slinging them at a group of masked soldiers, engulfing them in a fireball.

"I can get it open!" Hal said, ripping off the console's cover, exposing the internal wires. "Just cover me for a few seconds!"

"Solid copy! Briscoe, hose those suckers down!"

Briscoe grinned as he spun up his minigun. Ten seconds of sustained fire later, Hal managed to rewire the door to open. He, Rico, and Sonya ran inside while Briscoe backed in, still firing away. Once the four of them were inside, Hal sealed the door.

"See, Hal? I told you they'd have a backup plan," Rico panted.

"Backup, my ass! This WAS their plan the whole fucking time!" Sonya yelled, punching a wall.

"No way, you're crazy!" Rico replied. "There's no way they could have planned this! Even if we granted that they predicted the sandstorm, how could they have counted on us taking them to the Omnium?!"

"What about those masked soldiers?" Briscoe asked. "I don't know everything about the ALF, but those guys looked _way_ too well equipped to be backwoods rebels."

"Gah, I don't get it! What the fuck is going on here?!" Rico growled, clenching his fists.

"Agent Verde? Agent Verde, are you alright?" a familiar voice called over the comms.

"Director? Director Briscoe, is that you?! Oh, thank the gods! Can you hear me?" said Rico as the other agents tuned in on their commlinks.

"Loud and clear, son. What happened? Where are you?"

"We're trapped in the old Omnium! ALF reserve forces broke in and freed the prisoners! My team and I are the only ones left! We're hiding out in an old munitions storeroom right now."

"Yes…and I imagine it's only a matter of time before those black-masked terrorists find you…"

At that, Rico raised an eyebrow and glanced at Hal. Noticing Rico looking at him, Hal saw him silently mouth for him to trace to communication signal. Hal nodded as Rico continued talking.

"Director…how do you know what enemy looks like?"

"Has panic made you forget, son? You just told me the ALF attacked you in the Omnium!"

"I said the ALF attacked us. I didn't say what they looked like," Rico refuted.

Director Gibson was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone held a darkness that wasn't present before. "So the four of you are hiding in a storeroom, right?"

"Rico," Hal whispered, touching Rico's arm. "The transmission is coming from… _inside_ the building…"

Rico's eyes widened as his brow furrowed and he turned towards the door. "Director…where _are_ you right now?"

Gibson sighed. "I grow tired of this. Blow the door."

At that, an explosion blasted the steel door off of its hinges. The agents dove for cover the black-masked soldiers filed into the room, their laser sights cutting through the smoke. Some of the soldiers stood aside to allow a taller man to proceed into the room behind them. As Rico, looked up through some of the debris he was buried under, his eyes opened in shock as he beheld the sneering face of Director Milford—

"Gibson?" Rico gasped, attempting to get up. One of the soldiers knocked him back down with the stock of his gun. The other soldiers had their rifles trained on the rest of the team.

"I really must say," Gibson began, pacing towards Rico with his hands clasped behind his back, "I was sure this plan would take much longer to bear fruit. For a Blackwatch agent, you sure are predictable. The sandstorm blowing in was quite the stroke of luck, and I knew your pragmatism would drive you to use the Omnium as a holding area. All we needed was one of our own on the inside to let us in when the time was right."

"I don't understand this at all… You were with the ALF the whole time? Why would you betray Overwatch?!"

"It's nothing personal, kid," Gibson said, kneeling down in front of Rico. "Well, that's not _entirely_ true. It's actually very personal to me. To all of my friends here. We just want to see a little justice done is all."

"Justice? What are you talking about?" Briscoe asked as he glared at the soldiers around him.

"I'm talking about the very existence of this place!" Gibson said, rising to his feet and stretching out his arms. This Omnium…this Resettlement Zone, all of it! Didn't you listen when I told you I grew up around here? This land used to be hundreds of acres of fertile farmland. People made their homes here…until the Omnics burned it all down! My family…lost everything! The barn I played in as a kid, smashed by a Titan. My brothers shot by Bastion units…my sister, burned and crippled by an OR-14! We were forced out of our homes and off our land and became penniless refugees, run ragged and starving to death, barely one day ahead of the Omnic armies…and I'm not the only one! Every single man and woman here has got a story like that! And after the Crisis ends, what does the government do?! Offer us relief and recompense for our suffering? No! Instead, those loathsome Omnic apologists give away the land that used to belong to _us_ , to the very Omnics who ran us out! Does that make ANY sense to you?! So yes, I believe in seeking justice for this offense! And by God, I will have it!"

"What do you want with the Omnium?" Rico asked.

"Well, I don't want to spoil the surprise," Gibson said, grinning an evil grin. "Let's just say that we're going to show these Omnics the same hospitality they showed us when they came to visit. We're to take the weapons and battle droids stored here and turn them on their former masters. And then, we're going to show the world what kinds of monsters these machines really are. And unfortunately, since you now know the truth, the three of you will have to perish with it."

"The 'three' of us?" said Rico, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah yes, I suppose I should have mentioned that. Hal, would you kindly stand up and come over here? Gibson said. At his command, Hal stood up and walked to Gibson's side. His eyes were downcast as he trod over his comrades. Rico stared up at him with shock plastered all over his face. Hal cast an aside glance at Rico, but looked away just as quickly.

"Hal? What the fuck is going on here, man?" said Rico.

"Oh, you mean you don't know? Hal here is working off his debt to society. Just more evidence that justice is on our side! It's not every day that you find one of the very Omnics that took part in the King's Row Uprising."

"Hal didn't do that of his own volition, he was controlled! And besides that, he was pardoned!"

"Not until _I_ say so, he isn't! With the God A.I. control code still lying dormant in his CPU, he's gonna earn his way to redemption today!" Gibson said, the sneer returning to his face. "Alright, now I've ranted long enough. Seal the rest of them in! Maybe Overwatch can earn some redemption as well today—three agents die, valiantly trying to stop the meltdown of the Omnium's core! That ought to make a good headline! Ha ha ha ha!"

With that, Gibson and Hal backed out of the room while the ALF soldiers handcuffed Rico, Briscoe, and Sonya together and locked them in the storage room. Briscoe and Sonya struggled for several minutes in vain to free themselves from their bonds, but Rico just sat there in stunned silence.

"Agent Verde, come on! What are you just sitting there for?! We have to get out of here!" Sonya exclaimed. But Rico sat still.

"…I can't believe I didn't see it," he said, staring at the floor almost catatonically. "What did I miss?"

"Boss, snap out of it!" said Briscoe. But Rico remained deaf to his team's calls.

"Traitors within Overwatch itself? How is that even possible?" he muttered to himself.

Just then, a voice popped into Rico's cochlear implant. _"Agent Verde…Agent Verde, come in! I'm communicating with you through your neural sub-net, so no one else can hear me. Please pick up!"_ It was Hal's voice.

"Hal…what the fuck do _you_ want?" Rico snarled.

" _Agent Verde, I… Look, I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now-"_

"You're goddamn right!" Rico yelled. "I trusted you, goddamn it! And you betray us?! After everything you told me?"

" _I know I lied, alright? This wasn't the way things were supposed to happen. I didn't want any of you to get involved in this, but this_ has _to happen. I hate myself for it, but it's the only way…"_

"Only way? To do what?"

" _The only way to make sure that Omnics like me never threaten anyone again! Gibson wasn't kidding about the God A.I. control code still being in my head. We're going to use it to take control of all of the Omnics in the resettlement zone. They'll go on a rampage and attack nearby cities, and the world will see the we cannot be trusted! Don't you see? I'm only trying to help prevent another Omnic Crisis!"_

"What, by _causing_ one?! You and Gibson were just using us to get inside of the Omnium? You lied to us about _everything?"_

" _Not everything. What I told you about my past was the truth. I just…omitted a few details."_

"LIKE THAT MAKES IT BETTER! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY INNOCENT PEOPLE YOU'RE GOING TO KILL?!"

" _Of course I do… Do you really think I_ want _to hurt anybody, especially my fellow Omnics?! I take no pleasure in this, but I have to do it. But I don't want you, Briscoe and Sonya to die here because of it. You need to get free, then I'll tell you-"_

"Oh, I'll get free alright! Then I'm coming for both of your lying asses!" Rico interrupted, terminating the call afterwards. He then detached his arms from his shoulder joints, allowing him to easily slip his bonds. After reattaching them, he freed Sonya and Briscoe as well.

"Thanks. Now let's go get those guys!" Briscoe said, rubbing his wrists.

"No," Rico rejected. "No, you two need to get out of here, get word out that we've been compromised."

"And what are you gonna do, go after Hal and Gibson by yourself?!" Sonya asked with an unbelieving look on her face.

"I work better alone, remember? I'm gonna find them," he said, as he loaded two heavy pistols, "and I'm gonna kill 'em."

"Hmph. And there's the Blackwatch agent Commander Morrison warned us about," Sonya scoffed.

Rico glanced up at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You think you're going to run off after two of our own and just murder them?!"

"Not murder. Execution. It's justice."

"It's cold-blooded murder! If you want justice, you have to arrest them, see that they stand trial!"

"Are you kidding me? After a betrayal like this?! Death is all they deserve! Even if I did arrest them, they'd probably get the death penalty for this anyway! I'm just saving a few steps!" Rico said as he strapped a plasma bolter onto his back. "What difference does it make to you, anyway? You've been at Hal's throat ever since we started this job. I thought you'd be jumping at a chance like this."

"What, you think that just because I'm Russian, I want to indiscriminately destroy Omnics? It's true, my hometown was destroyed by Omnics when I was a child, but that doesn't mean I'm going to ignore due process! I joined Overwatch to protect the peace, not to be a murderer!"

"Killing those traitors _will_ protect the peace! It'll make sure their treachery never threatens anyone else! What's the problem with that?!"

"Because this isn't a Blackwatch job! This is Overwatch, and that's not what we stand for!"

"Ohhh, _that_ old song again! Ever since Commander Morrison called me in on this, all I've been hearing is 'what Overwatch stands for' this, and 'what Overwatch stands for' that! When are people going to realize that protecting the world takes more than a bunch of stupid platitudes?! Do you really think you can stop the bad guys by just _wanting it enough_?! I'm _protecting_ Overwatch the same way I protect everything else! Now you can fall in line or step aside, but just stay out of my goddamn way!"

And with that, Rico kicked the locked door off of its hinges and stormed out. Sonya scoffed in disbelief and moved to turn away, until she saw Briscoe loading his minigun and preparing to follow Rico.

"Briscoe, what are you doing? You're not thinking of helping him commit cold blooded murder, are you?"

"It's not about killing Hal or Gibson, it's about stopping their plan from succeeding. That's what _I'm_ about. We can sort out the rest once we've dealt with that. You can stand there and sulk if you want, but I'm going to do what we came here to do, no more, no less," Briscoe said as he hefted his weapon and walked out behind Rico.

Sonya frowned as she watched her comrades depart, but a few seconds later, followed after them despite herself…

* * *

 _ **Outside the Omnium's main control room…**_

Gibson walked toward the door the led to the facility's main control center. Gibson stared at a display of the Omnium's reactor chamber. Shielded heavily with a reinforced-titanium door was an immensely powerful nuclear reactor, which despite running at minimal power, still positively throbbed with energy. Gibson smiled wryly as he approached.

"To think…the very power that the Omnics used to devastate our homes…and after twenty years, we finally get to return the favor…"

Walking behind him, still looking at the ground, Hal still looked despondently at the floor.

"Aw, what's wrong, buddy? If you're worried about your fellow agents, don't be. Their fate was sealed when they accepted this mission."

"You should let them out; they're not a part of this."

"I'm sorry, Hal. I know you dislike hurting humans, but this is war. They're just collateral damage. If we were to let them go, they'd try to stop us, and we can't have that. Not after we've come so far. If it weren't for the Omnics agreeing to let us 'help' them, we would never have gotten access to this place. I'm not going to throw that away because you're squeamish."

"I'm not squeamish. I just don't think they deserve to die. They're not bad people…even if they are misguided."

Gibson sighed and walked over to Hal, putting his hands on his shoulders. "Look, I know you want to do the right thing. It's why I trusted you, despite your being an Omnic. So trust _me_ now. We're not so different, you know. I'm not enjoying this anymore than you are, but we both agreed that Omnics have to be destroyed for the good of mankind."

"We may both want Omnics to be destroyed, but don't pretend our reasons are the same. You're just a means to an end, same as I am to you," Hal responded, his tone darkening. "I'm trying to protect humanity. You just want revenge for your homeland. We are nothing alike."

"Hmph," Gibson smirked. "It really doesn't matter _why_ we're doing this. In the end, it's all just words. The result will be the same either way. And we'll both be a step closer to getting what we want. Now-"

Gibson then looked up suddenly as an explosion erupted down the hall. "You can't be serious…"

As he looked, he saw Rico and Briscoe charging towards him and Hal.

"Briscoe, cover me! I'm going in close!"

"Got you! Go, now!" Briscoe yelled as he fed a new belt of ammunition into his mingun.

Gibson threw down a pod that opened up on the ground and deployed an energy barrier that Rico leapt over when Gibson crouched behind it. Gibson aimed his pulse rifle at Rico's back, but then Sonya dropped in from above and attacked him at close range with a combat knife, which Gibson barely managed to block in time. He growled in frustration as he watched Rico pursue Hal into the Omnium's control center.

"GET BACK HERE, HAL! YOU KNOW IF I GOTTA CHASE YOU, I'M BRINGING AN ASS-KICKING WITH ME!" he yelled, angrily firing his heavy pistol as he ran.

"Remember Rico, don't kill him!" Sonya called after him.

"The only one you should be worried about getting killed is you!" Gibson sneered as he kicked Sonya's legs out from under her and attempted to stomp her into the ground with his armored boots, only to be barreled into from behind by Briscoe.

The trio continued to fight as Rico dove through the control center doors, the heavy metal plating slamming shut behind him. He rolled into a kneeling position drew his gun on Hal, who drew his gun on Rico as he stood before a massive control panel with a large window overlooking the Omnic Resettlement Zone. The sandstorm had finally passed, and below, the lights of the city could be seen. Not only that, but in the distance you could see the majesty of the outback as dawn's light began to crest over the horizon.

"Would you look at all that, Rico? It's all so… _empty_ , isn't it? Empty of meaning. This land was beautiful once. The humans who once lived here strived to make it so…and we Omnics destroyed it. Then they built this place over the scars we left here to try and bury the past. But you humans don't forgive and forget so easily, do you? But perhaps that's wise…"

" _Wise_? Hal, what you're doing is _**fucking insane**_! You think you're gonna save people by killing them?! Your logic is completely self-defeating!"

"Sometimes to protect the world, you have to do terrible things. Doesn't Blackwatch believe the same?" Hal said, pointedly shaking his gun at Rico. "I love humans, Rico… Humans are such amazing creatures… Architecture, art, agriculture, music, science," Hal said, gesturing towards Rico's cybernetic limbs. "You've managed to transcend the limits of your flesh! You even managed to create _life_!" he gestured to himself. "But because of that life…because of _us_ …humanity was nearly destroyed… All of that knowledge…all of those achievements nearly lost…and yet, humans made peace with the Omnics. You live side by side with the very beings who at anytime could once again turn on you all! So after King's Row, I decided that it couldn't be allowed to happen again, and I would make sure of it!"

"Tell yourself whatever the fuck you want! I WILL shoot you if I have to!" Rico growled back, holding his gun steady.

"You have your mission, and I have mine," Hal said and he place a hand on the panel, bringing it to life.

Rico was about the pull the trigger when the doors behind him suddenly flew open and Sonya and Briscoe walked in…followed by Gibson, who had shotguns pointed at their backs.

"I hope we're not interrupting anything," Gibson sneered.

Rico pulled out a second pistol and pointed at the man.

"Oh, you're really not _that_ stupid, are you boy? Drop the guns and kick them away. Hal, finish the job."

"You really think I'm going to do that?" Rico said, as Hal began typing away on the control panel. "You're just gonna kill us all anyway. It's what I would do," Rico replied.

Gibson sighed. "Yes, yes, of course I am, but that's not how you win a negotiation," he said, chuckling evilly. " _This is."_ Gibson lowered one of his guns and shot Briscoe in the right leg. He roared in pain and fell to the ground.

" **GIBSON, YOU FUCK!** " Rico roared, continuing to point his gun at the man, but not firing.

"The next one's to his head if you don't DROP YOUR DAMN GUNS!"

Rico angrily looked back and forth between Hal and Gibson before finally hanging his head and dropping his weapons and kicking them away was Gibson ordered.

"Well, since you're going to kill us anyway, no harm in telling us what your plan is now, is there?" Rico asked as he raised his hands. "What are you going to do with that control panel?"

"Well, that should be obvious, don't you think? We're going to use the Omniums neuro-net broadcasting hardware to transmit the God A.I. control signal in Hal's head to all of the Omnics in the resettlement zone! Once that happens, we'll march them to the nearest city, where a violent massacre will no doubt ensue. Once we repeat the process enough times, people will finally see Omnics for the threat that they are, and every last one of them, along with all of these evil factories, will finally be dismantled for good!"

"You insane bastard…you're not talking about discontinuing a line of products, you're talking about putting an end to an entire race! Don't you get that?! Hal, you told me you were amazed at human progress," Rico said, turning his head to look at the Omnic, who was still typing away on the control cosole. "Don't Omnics deserve the same opportunities to live and grow?"

"That's not what they were created for!" Gibson cut in, almost screaming. "Don't you see?! Omnics were never supposed to _be_ a race! The fact that they ended up gaining sentience was an accident! A fluke! A glitch in the system! And the fact that we now have to treat them the same way we treat _real_ people is a perversion of the natural order, which is simply this: Omnics were created to _serve_ humanity! And they failed! The craftsmen were betrayed by their own tools! And there's only one thing you do with a broken tool! YOU TRASH IT!"

It was then that, as Gibson was distracted by his own ranting, was kicked in the groin by Sonya, causing him to yelp in surprise and drop one of his shotguns, which landed near Briscoe, who was still on the ground. Gibson straightened up and shot at Sonya, who dove out of the way. She wasn't fast enough however, and the shot grazed her sized, causing her to gasp and wince in pain as she hit the ground. Rico then ran at Gibson and knocked his gun-hand away as he elbowed him in the chest, grabbed him by his other arm, and flipped him over, tossing him towards Hal. Gibson crashed into the Omnic, sending them both toppling over the control panel. Gibson promptly got back up and armed two pulse grenades.

"Hal, get back on that upload," he said, and then turned to Rico. "If it's the last thing I do today, I swear I am going to kill you."

"Funny. I was just going to say the same thing to you," Rico replied through gritted teeth.

At that, Gibson threw the grenades at Rico, who used his cyborg reflexes to catch them and throw them back. Gibson pressed a button on his armor's wrist gauntlet and generated a hard light shield, blocking the blast. He charged through the smoke and into Rico, pinning him against the wall. Rico transformed his right arm into a pulse cannon and blasted Gibson away from him. Gibson his the wall and fell to the ground with a loud thud, but as he began to get back up, he heard the cock of a shotgun and found himself face-to-face with Briscoe, who was holding him at gunpoint with the shotgun Sonya had made him drop earlier.

"Come on, asshole. Give me an excuse…" Briscoe growled hoarsely. Gibson slowly put his hands up with a frown.

Rico then took aim at Hal, but was surprised to see the Omnic running towards _him_. Hal knocked Rico's cannon arm away and threw a punch which Rico caught with his left hand. Still holding onto Hal's fist, Rico spun him around and wrapped his arm around his neck, placing him in a headlock while aiming his arm cannon at the Omnic's head.

"I've got your buddy, Gibson! Now Hal, stop that fucking upload right now!"

"I can't," Hal said, "…because it's already finished."

Rico's eyes widened in shock. "I finished it while you were having your dueling monologues with Gibson. The rest was just setting it as an automatic process with no killswitch. The control program is spreading the settlement as we speak."

Rico let go of Hal and ran over to the window, where he saw thousands of red lights in the streets below. He realized that they were the Omnic citizens of the resettlement zone…and they were all leaving their houses and places of work, and marching out into the early dawn light, arming themselves with weapons that were being delivered by Omnic supply vehicles driving out of the Omnium. Realizing the depth of his failure, he sank to his knees in defeat. Gibson merely smiled, assured of his victory, but kept his hands up, since Briscoe still had a gun trained on him. After a moment, Rico looked back to the control panel, stood up, walked over to it, and began typing on it.

"Rico, what are you doing? I've already told you that you can stop the program."

"I didn't say I was accessing the program, I'm accessing the Omnium's reactor core."

"Even if you _did_ shut down the reactor, it wouldn't stop what already been set in motion. But you _won't_ be able to shut if off, because I placed a lockout on it."

"Yes, I noticed that," Rico said bluntly, continuing to type away. "But I didn't say I was trying to shut down the reactor either."

"Then what are you-" Hal was cut off as an electronic voiced blared through the room.

" **WARNING. WARNING. REACTOR CORE TEMPERATURE RISING. INITIATE EMERGENCY COOLING.** "

"What did you do, Rico?!" asked Hal.

"Oh nothing," Rico shrugged. "Just vented all of the cooling from the Omniums main reactor. I think I drained all the emergency back-up coolant tanks, too."

" **WARNING. WARNING. INSUFFICIENT COOLANT AVAILABLE IN MAIN RESEVOIR. SWTICHING TO BACK-UPS… WARNING. EMERGENCY BACK-UP TANKS DEPLETED.** "

"Yep. Thought so," said Rico. And with that, Rico punched the control panel. Then he punched it a second time. And again. And again, and again until it was completely destroyed. "Hell of a way to work out your aggression," Rico said as he dusted his cybernetic hands.

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF THE OMNIUM CORE MELTS DOWN?!" Gibson screamed. "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE IN A NUCLEAR EXPLOSION!"

"Is _that_ what's going to happen?!" Rico asked with mock surprise.

"You're willing to go that far to stop me, Rico?' Hal asked. "Even though you would die, too? Noble, but I can't imagine Overwatch would approve."

"If I'm dead, then why the hell would I care what Overwatch thinks? There's no way in hell I'm letting those Omnics out of this city, Hal. I don't care what it takes."

"And what about Brisoce and Sonya? You would let them die, too?"

Rico stared back resolutely. "Whatever. It. Takes."

"I see… Humans really are incredible…"

Briscoe looked up at Rico with a raised eyebrow. That's when Gibson took his chance and grabbed the shotgun Briscoe was holding and struck him in the face with the stock and kicked him back down as he got up and ran out of the room. Rico picked up one of his heavy pistol from the floor and took aim at him, but then the building was rocked by an explosion. Rico swore as he holstered his gun and ran over to Briscoe, lifting him off them floor. Hal did the same for Sonya, who groaned in pain. As she opened one eye and saw that she was being carried by Hal, she grew furious.

"Put me down, you traitorous piece of-"

"Shut the fuck up, Sonya!" Rico yelled as he put Briscoe over his shoulder and began to run. Addressing Hal, he asked, "Why the fuck are you helping us _now_?!"

"You've won this battle, Rico. Neither of us can undo what's been done, so it's pointless to fight you anymore. Besides, I already told you that I didn't plan on letting the three of you die, remember?"

Rico stared back with a look of incredulity, but otherwise, merely replied, "…This doesn't change anything."

"I understand. Now let us try to leave as quickly as possible. If we can catch up to Gibson, I believe that we can use the experimental translocation device he has in his armor to quickly escape the blast zone."

"He has a translocator?" Sonya asked, grasping her side and Hal bridal-carried her into the nearby elevator. "I didn't think there were any working prototypes, yet."

"A translocator? Is that exactly what it sounds like?" Rico asked as Briscoe leaned on him for support while the elevator descended.

"It's a short range teleporter. You set up a beacon at one location and carry the transmitter with you. When you trigger the beacon, it automatically yanks you through space-time to that location," Sonya explained.

"If he's got something like that, why didn't he just use it earlier?"

"Like I said, it's still in the experimental stages. Newer models theorize using quantum entangling to facilitate communication between the beacon and the transmitter, but Gibson's prototype relies on satellite. He has to get outside first before he can use it," replied Hal.

"Then all we have to do is catch him before he does," Rico said.

"Before that," interjected Briscoe, "we need to talk about what happened in that control room. Rico…what you did…what you _said_ …you would really kill us all to accomplish your mission?"

"If it was the only way? Absolutely. Justice requires sacrifice. That's what I've always believed. And as a Blackwatch agent, the mission always comes before our lives."

"But _we're_ not Blackwatch, Rico! That's what I keep trying to tell you!" said Sonya. "Who are you to decide that _we_ get to be sacrificed?! Who are you to decide who lives and who dies?! All this talk about justice and sacrifice… It's fine for you to throw your own life away, but you can't just do that to other people! JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? GOD?!"

Rico said nothing as the elevator doors finally opened on the ground floor.

"I suggest we…table this for later," Briscoe grunted. Rico nodded, and together with Hal, carrying Briscoe and Sonya, they began to run.

The entire building had become engulfed in flames. Walls were collapsing and debris was falling from the ceiling as Rico and Hal ran through the facility carrying their wounded comrades. The electronic intercom voice continued to call over the roar of the flames and the numerous alarms going off.

" **WARNING. WARNING. CATASTRPOPHIC MELTDOWN HAS REACHED CRITICALITY. CORE BREACH IMMENIENT. INITIATE RADIATION PROTECTION PROCEDURES AND EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY TO MINIMUM SAFE DISTANCE.** "

"Hang on guys, just hang on! Rico panted.

"I can almost see the exit!" Hal called out.

Suddenly, a large support pillar buckled and collapsed, causing a large amount of rubble to fall upon the quartet. Rico and Hal attempted to jump clear, but weren't fast enough, and the four of them found themselves partially buried.

Rico quickly pushed a large portion of wall of himself and quickly got up. That was when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gibson running past on a nearby, raised walkway.

"That son of a bitch! Come on, move your asses! He's getting away!" Rico yelled over the roaring flames.

"We need help over here!" Sonya yelled. Men and women from the ALF ran all over the place, desperately trying to flee the doomed building.

"I don't wanna die like this!" a despairing voice cried.

"Rico, help us!" Briscoe called out.

Rico turned around and saw some collapsed debris blocking the way between him and his comrades. He ran over and tried to move some of it, but it was too heavy, even for his cybernetically augmented limbs.

Turning back to look the other way, he saw Gibson meters away from exiting the building. He paused and turned around just long enough to smirk.

Rico gritted his teeth. " _If Gibson gets away…_ " he thought. " _If_ all _of us die here, no one will ever know the truth… No one will know the crime that has been committed here against the Omnic people… It will be_ his _story to tell, and justice will be on_ his _side… I can't let that happen…I WON'T!"_

"I can't let that rat-bastard escape justice…HE HAS TO PAY!" Rico yelled.

"No…NO! You can't leave us here!" Sonya cried.

"I'm sorry…I can't let him get away…I can't!" Rico said, turning and running towards Gibson.

" **HELP US!** "

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…I'M SORRY!" Tears streamed from Rico eyes, smearing the soot on his face, as he jumped up towards Gibson, who was inches from the door. A wild smile as on his face as the man crossed the threshold and reached to press a button on his wrist gauntlet. What he didn't expect was to be tackled from behind. As he turned his head to look, his eyes went wild with surprise as he saw that Rico had grabbed onto him, a crazed expression on his face and pure rage in his eyes.

It was then that time seemed to move in slow motion. Rico and Gibson were engulfed by a strange, purple light. Rico could feel himself slipping away, as if he was being pulled apart piece by piece, but strangely, it wasn't painful. He looked back and saw that his and Gibson's leg's had begun to vanish. Then vanishing continued gradually up the rest of their bodies. Suddenly, the purple light awash with yellow and red as Rico looked back one final time at the Omnium, which collapsed in on itself before exploding into a tremendous inferno. But the flames never touched Rico and Gibson.

They were already gone.

And now…so was everything else…


End file.
